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OUR  CHRISTMAS  IN  A  PALACE 


A   TRAVELLERS  STORY 


BY 

EDWARD   EVERETT   HALE 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1883, 

By  FUNK  &  WAGNALLS, 
b  tke  Office  of  the  Librarian  01  Congress  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


PS 

m  A- 
H 


THE  admirable  story  of  "  Christmas  in  Cooney 
Camp,"  included  in  this  volume,  is  kindly  given 
me  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Collingwood,  who  describes  in  it 
what  he  has  seen  and  heard.  It  has  never  been  pub 
lished  before.  The  other  stories  and  sketches  are  my 
own. 

EDWARD   E.   HALE. 

ROXBURY,  MASS.,  Oct.  i,  1883. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PACK 

Theodora  Bourn  and  Jane  Marhill 7 


CHAPTER   II. 
Paul  Decker  and  Theodora  Bourn 23 

CHAPTER    III. 
Snow-bound— Nahum  Barrow's  Revenge 48 

CHAPTER   IV. 
Paul  Decker's  Story— Hands  Off— Lulu's  Doll 72 

CHAPTER   V. 
Christmas  Eve 103 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Committee's  Report  and  what  followed 106 

CHAPTER   VII. 

Christmas  Morning — Christmas  in  Cooney  Camp — Christmas  at 

Valley  Forge 109 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
Hepzibah's  Turkeys—  Ideals — Nothing  to  Give. 175 


Vl  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

PAGE 

General  Washington's  Pig 246 

CHAPTER  THE   LAST. 
Paul  Decker's  Reflections — Breakfast 264 


OUR  CHRISTMAS  IN  A  PALACE. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THEODORA  BOURN  AND  JANE   MARHILL. 

"  COME  out  and  walk,  Mary  ;  we  shall  have  full 
twenty  minutes.  The  conductor  says  fifteen,  and  you 
may  be  sure  we  shall  not  start  till  two." 

Mary  was  glad  enough  to  join  him.  As  she 
crowded  by  the  stove  and  porter's  seat,  at  the  end  of 
the  car,  she  proposed  that  he  should  ask  little  Black- 
Ribbons  to  join  them,  and  he  did  so.  He  went  back 
to  the  place  where  Black  Ribbons  was  sitting  alone, 
touched  his  hat,  and  said  : 

"  My  wife  is  going  to  take  a  walk  on  the  platform. 
Will  you  not  join  us?" 

They  had  exchanged  civilities  with  Black  Ribbons 
before.  But  she  was  shy.  They  were  happy  in  the 
joy  of  their  wedding  journey.  Her  seat  was  "  three," 
quite  at  one  end  of  the  Pullman,  and  theirs  was 
"  twenty-one  to  twenty-four,"  quite  at  the  other. 
Maty  had  offered  her  cold  coffee  at  lunch  and  she  had 
declined.  The  walk,  therefore,  was  the  first  successful 
effort  at  anything  like  intimacy. 

"  Look  there,"  said  Hector,  and  he  kicked  with  his 
foot  an  ingot  of  silver,  which  lay  as  heavy  and  motion- 


8  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

less  under  the  blow  as  if  it  had  been  spiked  to  the 
plank  on  which  they  stood.  "  If  we  were  dishonest, 
we  could  hardly  get  that  off — all  three  of  us.  And 
now  the  expressmen  leave  these  three  blocks,  trust 
ing  not  in  our  honesty,  not  in  law  or  sheriff,  not  in  any 
All-Seeing  Eye,  but  simply  in  the  dead  weight  of 
silver.  That  is  the  way  of  the  world." 

' '  The  way  of  what  world  ?' ' 

"  The  way  of  this  world.  What  I  mean  is  that 
heavy  people  and  things — people  with  much  specific 
gravity— are  let  alone  and  prosper,  as  if  dead  weight 
were  a  merit,  while  light  and  airy  people  like  us  three, 
and  elegant  things  like  that  silver  when  it  shall  have 
been  drawn  into  threads,  and  moulded  into  butterflies 
for  breast-pins,  have  to  be  watched  and  tended  and 
daintily  lifted  from  place  to  place.  Now,  there  is  our 
Caesar  Ganymede,  the  Pullman  porter,  sadly  looking 
upon  you  now,  he  is  so  afraid  you  will  be  left,  Mary." 

4  You  would  like  to  go  as  freight  ?"  said  Mary. 

"  Not  quite  that.  For  then  they  would  lay  me  on 
my  back,  and  put  two  tea-chests  on  me,  and  a  log  of 
red-wood  on  them,  and  these  ingots  of  silver  on  them, 
and  lock  the  car  door  for  ten  days." 

'  You  would  arrive  breathless,  like  a  messenger  in 
a  novel." 

'  Yes,  and  my  clothes  would  need  brushing.  But 
we  might  all  three  have  been  sent  not  as  freight,  but 
as  parcels,  by  Adams's  Express.  We  could  have  been 
tied  up  in  brown  paper,  like  dolls.  They  could  have 
marked  us,  '  This  side  up  with  care.'  We  should  go 
by  '  great  speed,'  as  they  say  in  France.  We  should 
not  have  to  pay  a  cabman  when  we  arrived  in  Colum 
bus,  and  we  should  have,  to  spend  at  the  theatre,  all 
the  money  these  blessed  through  tickets  have  cost  us." 


THEODORA    BOURN  AND  JANE  MAR  HILL.  9 

'  Minus  what  we  paid  the  expressman." 

"  No,  madam.  For  that  we  have  provided  indepen 
dently.  For  the  hard-earned  specie  which  I  gave  to 
yonder  bloated  conductor  for  our  Pullman  section, 
and  which  our  friend  here  has  paid  for  hers,  would 
more  than  satisfy  the  greed  of  the  express  company. 
I  am  tall  but  thin.  I  should  not  measure  more  than 
six  cubic  feet.  I  should  first  tie  up  both  you  ladies 
back  to  back,  and  you  would  not  together  measure 
more  than  eight  feet.  It  is  not  too  late  now.  I  will 
go  and  speak  to  the  express  agent." 

And  he  pretended  to  leave  them.  But  at  this 
moment  the  train  conductor  touched  his  hat,  and 
said  :  "  Please  get  on  board  again,  sir.  I  shall  start 
the  train  a  little  before  time.  It  is  beginning  to  snow 
above  us,  and  my  plough  is  at  station  one  hundred 
and  three.  I  should  rather  be  there  before  the  snow 
gathers." 

So  they  tumbled  into  the  car.  But  in  this  nonsense 
of  Hector's  the  ice  was  broken,  and  Mary  and  Black 
Ribbons  took  seats  twenty-three  and  twenty-four, 
when  they  returned  to  the  car,  while  Hector  went 
forward  and  found  company  in  the  smoking-car. 

Black  Ribbons  proved  to  be  going  to  the  East  for 
the  first  time  she  could  remember.  Her  father  had 
been  a  superintendent  in  a  queer  sort  of  mine,  if  you 
may  so  call  it,  which  was  covered  by  every  tide  of  the 
Pacific,  twice  in  twenty-four  hours.  When  the  waters 
receded,  they  could  work  the  gold-besprent  sand. 
When  the  waters  gathered  again,  they  slept,  or  ate, 
or  played  poker,  I  suppose.  Mining  with  such  limi 
tations  had  not  rendered  much  profit.  The  child  who 
grew  up  in  such  queer  surroundings  was  by  far  the  best 
dividend  her  father  and  mother  had  won  from  them. 


10  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

At  last  he  had  died,  a  disappointed  man.  Her  mother 
could  not  "  boss"  a  gang  of  workmen,  and  had,  unwill 
ingly  enough,  left  their  not  uncomfortable  home  by 
the  sea  for  the  closer  life  of  Sacramento,  where  she 
had  tried  the  doubtful  career  of  a  boarding-house 
keeper.  In  a  fitful  way  the  two  had  kept  the  wolf 
from  the  door  for  a  year  or  more  ;  but  that  fight 
ended  with  the  sudden  death  of  the  widow.  She  had 
left  her  daughter  for  a  day  and  night  only.  The  first 
news  the  poor  girl  had  was  that  her  mother  was  dead. 
The  next  was  when  the  cold  body  was  brought  home. 
Crossing  the  ferry  from  San  Francisco  to  Oakland,  the 
steamer  had  come  to  grief. 

"A  slight  accident,"  said  the  evening  paper. 
'  Travel  was  suspended  only  till  the  boat  could  be 
hauled  into  dock  and  her  place  taken  by  the  Golden 
City.  No  person  was  injured,  with  the  exception  of 
one  of  the  passengers,  a  lady,  name  unknown.  She 
was  taken  to  the  city  hospital." 

She  died  before  she  arrived  there,  and  Theodora,  the 
next  day,  stood  at  the  door  of  her  home  to  receive  her 
mother's  dead  body. 

1  Yes  ;  everybody  was  kind.  They  were  very  kind. 
I  should  have  died,  you  know,  if  they  had  not  been 
kind.  I  had  twenty  homes  open  to  me.  But  I  could 
not  stay  in  them  always,  you  know.  They  have  all 
helped  me,  all  through.  There  are  the  very  nicest 
people  in  all  the  world  in  Sacramento.  But,  of  course, 
I  could  not  keep  the  boarders.  Mr.  Flynn  arranged 
about  the  lease,  and  then  they  had  an  auction  and 
sold  all  our  things  ;  that  was  the  very  worst — and — 
well — there  have  been  endless  letters — then  it  was  set 
tled  that  I  should  go  to  my  mother's  brother's  home 
for  this  winter.  His  farm  is  in  Piqua,  or  at  least  it 


THEODORA    BOURN  AND  JANE  MARHILL.         TT 

is  between  Piqua  and  Troy.  Do  you  know  any  one 
in  Piqua?  I  heard  you  speak  of  Columbus." 

No  ;  Mary  knew  nobody  in  Piqua.  Five  seconds 
before  she  had  not  known  that  there  was  any  such  place 
as  Piqua  in  the  world.  But  with  the  wisdom  and  con 
fidence  of  the  married  state,  as  one  who  knew  the 
world  and  what  was  in  it,  she  ventured  to  assure  Mary 
that  she  doubted  not  there  were  very  nice  people  and 
very  good  social  order  in  Piqua.  Her  husband  was  an 
Ohio  man,  or  had  friends  in  Ohio,  and  doubtless  he 
was  acquainted  in  Piqua. 

Had  Theodora  more  experience  in  life,  she  would 
have  known,  from  the  intonation  with  which  Mary 
uttered  the  word  "  husband,"  that  she  was  not  much 
accustomed  to  its  use.  Indeed,  there  was  a  certain 
importance  in  the  tone,  as  if  she  had  said  "  His  Serene 
Eminence,"  or  "  His  Royal  Majesty,"  as  if  this 
husband  was  distinct  from  all  the  other  husbands, 
and  as  if  Theodora  of  course  knew  the  distinction. 
The  truth  was  that  he  was  a  husband  of  four  days 
and  one  hour's  standing,  and  Mary  had  had  no  occa 
sion  to  call  him  by  his  official  title  till  this  moment. 

As  for  his  having  "  friends  in  Ohio,"  it  was  true  that 
Douglas,  one  of  his  college  friends,  lived  in  Columbus, 
and  had  asked  the  bride  and  bridegroom  to  visit  him 
on  their  way  to  their  home  in  Penn  Yan.  But  Mary 
wanted  to  put  as  bright  a  face  on  things  as  she  could  do. 

In  such  confidences,  the  two  girls  hardly  noticed 
how  the  snow  closed  in  around  them.  Little  they 
heeded  it,  indeed,  that  the  train  arrived  at  one  hun 
dred  and  three  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes  after  time. 

Hector  bustled  in  then,  and  said  :  "  Now  we  are  all 
right  ;  we  have  our  snow-plough,  and  they  say  there 
is  less  snow  after  we  cross  the  next  divide." 


12  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE, 

:  All  right  !  has  anything  been  wrong  ?" 
'   Oh,  no — not  wrong,  you  know  ;    only  we   are  a 

little   late   here.      Snow   clogged    under   the   drivers. 

Road  very  rough.     But   it  is  all  over  now.     We  shall 

make  up  the  time  before  we  come  to  the  Junction. 
And  then  he  gave  Mary  a  chance  to  ask  him  whom 

he  knew  at  Troy  or  at  Piqua. 


Theodora  Bourn,  the  young  girl  whom  they  had 
called  Black  Ribbons,  felt  that  the  world  was  a  new 
world  after  the  bride  and  bridegroom  had  admitted 
her  into  their  little  travelling  party.  She  had  left 
Sacramento  not  quite  alone.  A  Mr.  Wilcox,  who  was 
going  east,  had  been  made  to  say  that  he  would  see 
to  her.  But  even  before  they  arrived  at  Ogden,  Mr. 
Wilcox  had  broken  down  with  a  headache  so  heavy  and 
a  pulse  so  high,  that  a  jury  of  passengers  had  pro 
nounced  unanimously  that  he  must  stop  there,  and 
Theodora  had  found  that  he  was  in  her  charge — not 
she  in  his.  The  poor  man  had  been  able  to  hunt  up  a 
business  correspondent  in  Ogden,  and  with  the  large 
and  cheerful  hospitality  of  the  West,  the  people  sum 
moned  had  made  him  comfortable  enough.  But  after 
this  ill-omened  beginning,  Black  Ribbons,  who  would 
have  known  herself  better  as  Theodora  Bourn,  was 
taken  to  the  New  York  Express,  and  found  herself  in 
seat  number  three  of  the  Pullman,  with  the  prospect  of 
three  or  four  days  without  any  companion.  Hector 
Van  Sandfoord  and  his  pretty  bride  had  come  on  board 
at  Cheyenne  City,  where  they  had  stayed  over  a  day  to 
break  the  strain  of  their  voyage  eastward.  Now  that 
Theodora  could  hear  the  sound  of  her  own  voice  and 
of  somebody's  besides,  her  spirits  rose,  and  she  felt 
that  all  would  go  well. 


THEODORA    BOUR\   AND  J.I     E   MARHILL.         13 

The  train  was  a  singularly  small  one.  Indeed,  the 
season,  as  we  found,  was  not  propitious  for  long 
travelling.  One  car,  for  way  travellers  mostly,  picked 
up  a  handful  of  passengers  now  and  then,  and  dropped 
another  handful.  In  the  smoking-car  there  would 
congregate  a  group  of  card-players  ;  and  this  was,  on 
the  whole,  the  most  densely  peopled  car  on  the  train. 
A  dining-room  and  kitchen  followed  the  Pullman 
palace,  as  that  followed  the  more  plebeian  carnages. 
If  the  snow  would  only  hold  off,  there  would  be  no 
difficulty  in  making  the  time. 

Our  three  friends  went  back  to  supper  together, 
about  half-past  six,  having  talked  in  the  darkness  as 
long  as  the  waiters  would  let  them,  that  the  evening 
might  seem  the  shorter.  As  they  sat  down  at  the 
pretty  table,  Theodora  said  : 

"  My  great  grief  in  this  delay  at  Ogden  is  that  it 
keeps  me  on  the  road  all  Christmas  day.  I  hoped  even 
against  hope,  and  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  I  could 
spend  the  end  of  my  Christmas  at  Piqua.  It  will  seem 
forlorn  enough  to  spend  the  whole  day  in  the  train. 
But  there  is  no  help  for  that  now." 

"  Help,  my  dear  child  !  You  will  not  travel  an  inch 
on  Christmas.  You  will  stop  with  us  at  Council  Bluffs, 
and  go  down  with  us  to  the  Corneaus  at  Hastings.  I 
do  not  know  what  the  connection  is.  Hector  is  not 
sure.  But  it  is  only  twenty  miles.  We  shall  be  there 
in  time  to  hang  up  our  stockings. 

"  Who  are  the  Corneaus  ?  Why,  it  seems  as  if  we 
had  known  you  so  long  that  you  must  know.  The 
Corneaus  are —  Well,  Hector,  tell  her  who  the  Cor 
neaus  are." 

"  Whoever  they  are,"  replied  poor  Theodora  with 
a  little  reserve,  "  they  are  not  expecting  to  have  you 


14  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

bring  every  waif  you  pick  up  on  the  railroad  to  their 
Christmas  party." 

"  Not  expecting  it  ?  Queer  people,  if  they  did  not 
expect  it  !  My  dear  Theodora,  where  have  you  lived 
all  your  life  ?  If  you  had  tried  life  at  a  Mission  from 
the  time  you  were  one — till — till — " 

'  Till  you  became  a  married  lady  of  dignity  and 
knowledge  of  the  world,"  said  Hector,  interrupting 
her,  "  if  you  were  this,  Miss  Bourn,  you  would  know 
that  the  Corneaus,  who  live  two  or  three  miles  out 
from  Hastings,  would  never  speak  to  me  again,  if  my 
wife  once  let  slip  that  we  had  let  Miss  Theodora  Bourn 
go  on  her  way  alone.  Let  me  give  you  the  thigh  of 
this  chicken.  You  don't  wish  gravy  ?  You  are  the 
first  woman  who  ever  refused  it.  To  think  of  the 
rage  of  the  Corneaus,  if  you  do  not  stop  at  their  house 
at  Christmas  !" 

And  so  little  Theodora  was  fairly  enfolded  into  the 
travelling  bridal  party,  and  was  to  take  the  chances  of 
life  with  them. 

They  went  back  into  the  palace,  and  they  tried  a 
game  of  euchre  with  a  dummy.  But  the  game  palled, 
and  seemed  to  be  rather  in  the  way.  Mrs.  Frechette 
and  her  husband,  with  whom  they  had  passed  some 
civilities  before,  came  up  and  took  the  seats  opposite 
twenty-three  and  twenty-four,  and,  as  it  happened — 
they  hardly  knew  why — there  came  a  very  long  post 
at  a  station,  so  that  the  car  was  wholly  still.  They 
could,  therefore,  now  talk  across  the  passage-way  with 
out  difficulty,  and  all  became  very  intimate. 

'  You  say  you  thought  you  should  not  have  money 
enough  for  your  tickets,"  said  Mrs.  Frechette, 
in  comment  on  some  story  of  Theodora  Bourn. 


THEODORA    BOURN  AND  JANE   MARHILL.         15 

"  Do  you  not  know  how  young  ladies  travel  without 
money  ?" 

'  They  make  their  husbands  pay,"  said   Mr.   Fr6- 
chette. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  his  wife.  !<  It  is  much  simpler. 
How  do  you  suppose  Scheherezade  travelled — the 
woman  in  the  Arabian  Nights  ?  Do  you  think  she 
bought  a  through  ticket  ?" 

"  Not  much,"  said  Mary.  "  I  always  heard  that 
she  sat  on  a  carpet  and  it  carried  her.  I  wonder  if 
this  carpet  would  fly  if  we  took  it  out  of  the  car." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  Frechette  ;  "  she  told  stories 
to  the  conductors.  She  was  what  they  call  a  dead 
head." 

"  I  always  understood  that  they  called  them  tramps, 
when  they  came  with  a  pack  of  lies." 

'  Tom,  hold  your  tongue  !  I  tell  you  that  Schehere 
zade's  plan  has  been  transferred  to  our  times  and  ways. 
It  tells  all  about   it  here.     If  Caesar  there  will  only 
light  up  the  side-light  I  will  read  it  to  you." 

And  the  jolly  Mrs.  Frechette,  in  triumph,  dug  from 
the  bottom  of  her  lunch-basket  a  badly  worn,  not  to 
say  somewhat  greasy  copy  of  the  Cottage  Hearth. 

"  I  keep  it,"  said  she,  "  lest  Tom  be  left  over  at  a 
way-station,  as  he  will  be  some  day,  and  I  need  to 
work  my  passage. ' ' 

So,  as  soon  as  Caesar  had  lighted  up,  she  read  : 

JANE   MARHILL'S   STORY. 

Jane  Marhill  had  graduated  at  the  Hamilton 
Academy  with  all  the  honors.  She  and  the  other  girls 
and  the  first  class  had  sat  up  half  the  night  talking 
with  each  other.  Miss  Norton,  the  mistress  of  the 
school,  was  always  very  good  to  the  girls  at  parting, 


1 6  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

and  she  had  a  little  private  breakfast  party  in  her  own 
room  the  last  morning.  But  this  would  not  last  for 
ever,  and  at  last  good,  kind  Dr.  Wistar  came  round  in 
his  own  buggy  to  take  Jane  to  the  train.  She  kissed 
good-by  to  all.  "  Be  sure  you  are  in  time  with  the 
trunk,  Cicero  !"  And  Cicero  said,  "  Sartin,  Miss 
Jane,  the  hoss  is  here,"  and  by  way  of  emphasis  took 
Jane's  hand-bag  also.  The  girl  was  confused  with  so 
many  good-bys,  and  gave  it  to  him  quite  uncon 
sciously. 

Often  and  often  had  she  a  chance  to  regret  this. 
For  on  that  bit  of 'gallantry  of  Cicero's  hinged  all  her 
misfortunes.  Dr.  Wistar  bade  her  good-by  at  the 
station.  The  train  was  absolutely  on  time.  Cicero 
had  relied  on  its  being  ten  minutes  late,  as  usual,  and 
when  "  All  on  board"  was  sounded,  Jane  stood  with 
out  her  trunk  and  without  her  satchel. 

But  she  had  her  ticket  ;  what  should  she  care  if  she 
came  home  with  her  luggage  a  day  behind  her  ?  She 
charged  Mr.  Treby,  the  station-master,  who  was  a 
tried  friend  of  all  the  girls,  to  send  both  pieces  after 
her  on  the  first  train. 

"All  right,  Miss  Jane.  I  will  double-check  them, 
and  you  will  have  them  to-morrow  morning." 

So  Jane  blithely  entered  the  car,  little  thinking  at 
the  moment  what  was  before  her. 

When  the  conductor  asked  her  for  her  ticket,  Jane 
gave  it  to  him  for  his  "  punch,"  and  then  recollected, 
for  the  first  time,  that  it  only  took  her  to  the  junction 
at  Whipple.  At  Whipple  they  would  all  have  to  wait 
for  the  Cattaraugus  and  Opelousas  express.  Jane 
knew  that  junction  only  too  well.  She  had  waited  there 
four  times  a  year  for  five  years.  They  would  arrive 
there  at  dark,  and  the  express  was  due  about  half  an 


THEODORA    BOURN  AND  JANE  MARHILL.         17 

hour  after  they  came  in.  All  this  Jane  knew  and  was 
prepared  for.  But  the  dreadful  memory  which  shocked 
her,  from  her  gulping  throat  to  her  beating  heart,  was 
that  her  purse  was  in  the  fatal  hand-bag  which  she 
had  trusted  to  Cicero,  and  that  she  had  with  her  hot 
one  cent  for  her  expenses  after  this  very  moment 
of  her  life  ! 

Was  there,  perhaps,  some  one  in  the  train  from  whom 
Jane  might  borrow  ? 

Not  a  man,  not  a  woman  !  If  that  horrid  Schaus  of 
the  bee-hive  shop  had  been  on  his  way  to  New  York, 
Jane  would  have  abased  herself.  If  only  Miss  Marion, 
the  head  of  the  rival  Female  College,  had  been  there 
she  would  have  done  it.  But  there  had  been  no 
passenger  except  herself  at  Gallatin,  which  was  the 
seat  of  Hamilton  Academy  and  the  Female  College, 
and  all  the  other  people  seemed  to  be  butchers  on 
their  way  from  Brighton.  "  Perhaps  it  is  as  well," 
said  Jane.  "  Did  not  Dr.  Withers  charge  us  in  his 
farewell  sermon  never  to  borrow?  If  only  I  could 
walk  home  from  Whipple  !"  But  one  cannot  walk 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  in  one  evening. 

On  the  seat  in  front  of  her  was  a  little  German  girl 
who  was  ticketed,  by  a  visible  card  pinned  upon  her 
frock,  to  Littleton,  not  twenty-five  miles  from  Jane's 
home. 

To  divert  herself  from  the  sense  of  her  misery,  Jane 
asked  the  girl  to  sit  with  her,  and  remembered  then, 
with  another  great  choke,  how  warm  and  nice  were  the 
crullers  in  the  lost  bag,  and  how  gladly  she  would  have 
treated  the  child  with  them.  Failing  the  crullers  she 
asked  the  child  if  she  could  make  paper  dolls.  It 
proved  that  the  little  waif  could  not  speak  English. 
Jenny  profited  by  the  occasion  to  air  and  exercise  her 


I  8  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

German  conversation.  Before  long  she  had  her 
scissors  at  work  cutting  out  dolls,  cats  and  dogs, 
roebucks  and  cows,  trees  and  houses,  from  a  handbill 
which  advertised  lunch  on  the  ferry-boat.  Alas,  no 
lunch  for  Jane  that  day  !  But  the  child  was  grateful 
to  her,  and  she  was  grateful  to  the  child. 

And  so  she  rushed  on  at  a  rapid  speed,  nearer  and 
nearer  to  her  doom  ! 

"  Whipple  Junction  !  Change  for  stations  on  Cat- 
taraugus  and  Opelousas."  Jane  left  her  home,  and  so 
did  Gretchen.  Jane  was  and  knew  she  was  a  vaga 
bond.  She  had  no  money  and  no  visible  means  of 
support.  She  was  a  tramp — Gretchen  at  her  side  was 
a  bloated  millionaire  in  the  comparison. 

The  conductor  had  Gretchen 's  lot  intrusted  to  him. 
He  came  to  direct  her  where  to  buy  her  ticket — was 
relieved  to  find  Jenny  in  charge,  and  said  hastily,  "  The 
girl  is  to  go  to  Littleton.  She  needs  a  new  ticket 
here."  Poor  Jenny  !  She  led  the  girl  to  the  ticket 
window,  waited  in  the  queue,  bought  the  ticket  with 
the  money  Gretchen  furnished,  and  gave  back  to 
Gretchen  the  precious  change — six  dollars  and  forty 
cents.  Had  ever  money  seemed  so  precious  ! 

Would  she  confide  in  Gretchen  ?  Would  she  borrow 
from  her  ? 

That  would  seem  too  thin,  the  girl  would  have  said, 
had  the  language  of  Hamilton  Academy  furnished  her 
with  so  convenient  a  term.  Come  what  wOuld  she 
would  not  borrow.  But  she  did  turn  to  the  ticket- 
seller. 

"  Is  the  express  on  time  ?" 

"  No,  Miss  ;  it  was  forty-seven  minutes  late  at 
Sedgemoor.  They  will  make  up  some  of  it,  but  not 
all." 


THEODORA    BOURN  AND  JANE   MARHILL.         19 

As  she  turned  from  the  ticket-office  she  saw  the 
placard,  brightly  lighted,  which  read  : 

"NOTICE  TO  LOAFERS." 

V  All  loafing  in  this  room  is  prohibited  by  law." 
And  then  followed  the  section  of  the  act  aimed  at 
all  persons  who,  "  without  right,"  haunt  railway 
stations. 

But  Jane  rose  superior  to  the  insinuation.  The 
smile  of  victory  was  on  her  face  now.  For,  with  the 
words  of  the  ticket-seller,  light  had  dawned  on  her. 

She  was  no  longer  a  loafer.  She  had  found  a  voca 
tion  ! 

She  did  not,  however,  as  yet,  enter  upon  its  exer 
cise. 

Skilfully  she  reserved  herself,  till  she  saw  and  knew 
that  the  other  passengers  waiting  for  the  express 
were  becoming  desperate  at  their  detention. 

At  that  junction — as  at  most  junctions — the  lamps 
are  so  high  and  so  bad  that  no  one  can  read.  The 
seats  are  so  nailed  to  the  floor,  that  you  cannot  make 
groups  for  conversation,  or  even  for  playing  at  cards. 
Grimly  the  waiting  throng  sat  or  stood.  Now  one 
walked  on  the  platform  in  the  drizzly  rain.  Now  he 
came  back  to  the  misery  of  the  half-lighted  room.  All 
watched  the  clock,  which  in  the  deadness  of  the 
place  almost  stopped,  but  crawled  on  enough  to  make 
it  sure  that  the  machinery  was  not  accountable  for  the 
slowness  of  time. 

Jane  felt  at  last  that  her  moment  had  come. 

With  the  same  courage  which  she  had  pretended 
the  day  before,  on  the  stage  at  the  exhibition,  she 
stepped  forward— holding  the  hand  of  little  Gretchen — 
and  said  to  the  astonished  detained  people  : 


20  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  time  passes  very  slowly. 
It  has  been  suggested  that  I  should — TELL  A  STORY  !" 
The  effective  pause  just  before  the  proposal,  wrought 
its  perfect  work,  and  the  proposal  was  received  with 
hearty  applause.  The  applause  encouraged  Jenny, 
and  she  began. 

The  girl  had  had  practice  enough.  Often  and  often 
had  she  told  stories  to  the  girls  at  the  Academy,  while 
they  gladly  copied  out  her  exercises  for  her  in  return, 
from  her  rough  notes. 

She  began  with  an  English  steamer  sailing  from  the 
Mersey.  She  described,  realistically,  her  own  experi 
ences  of  a  year  before,  when  she  came  home  with  her 
father  and  mother  from  a  summer  tour.  But  now,  in 
her  story,  the  travellers  were  a  German  workman,  his 
wife  and  daughter,  who  had  second-class  passages. 
She  portrayed  the  second  cabin.  She  just  entered  into 
its  intrigues  and  politics,  but  not  far.  Of  a  sudden — 
as  all  slept  on  board  in  the  night — shouts  overhead  : 
the  helm  put  down  hard  !  Too  late — the  ship  crashes 
against  ice  !  The  stewards  rush  through  the  cabins 
summoning  all  to  rise.  They  dress  in  wild  haste. 
They  stagger  on  deck  to  be  told  off  to  the  boats. 
The  child  is  parted  from  her  father  and  mother  ! 
She  is  fairly  thrown  into  the  surgeon's  boat  !  The 
boat  is  cast  off. 

And  here  the  story-teller  paused. 

To  the  baggage-master,  who  was  listening  in  the 
throng  :  "  Would  you  have  the  kindness  to  bring  me 
a  cup  of  water?" 

Then,  in  German  to  Gretchen  :  "  Take  off  your  hat 
and  pass  it  to  the  gentlemen  and  ladies."  Then  to 
the  assembly  :  "  Perhaps  they  will  like  to  help  a  poor 
traveller  on  her  way." 


THEODORA    BOURN  AND  JANE   MARHILL.         21 

The  child  supposed  this  might  be  the  custom  of  a 
new  country,  in  which  she  had  been  a  citizen  now  for 
twenty-six  hours. 

She  did  as  she  was  bidden.  A  jolly  old  Texan, 
whom  she  touched  first,  modestly,  dropped  a  silver 
dollar  in  the  hat.  One  and  another  of  the  detained 
fumbled  in  the  change  pocket  of  his  coat,  one  and 
another  lady  dived  into  her  travelling*bag.  Jane  did 
not  wait  for  the  little  girl  to  come  back  with  her  col 
lections,  but  went  on  as  if  indifferent. 

"  Quartermaster,  is  your  boat  clear?" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir  !" 

"And  you,  Mr.  Flagg?" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir  !" — 

But  at  this  moment  the  distant  scream  of  a  whistle. 
The  baggage-master  appeared  with  his  mug  of  water. 
*  The  train  is  in  sight,  Miss.     They  have  made  up 
their  time." 

And,  with  the  word,  Jane's  audience  melted  av/ay. 
She  was  left  alone  with  Gretchen. 

With  her  well-earned  travel-gelt  she  turned  to  the 
window,  and  asked  boldly  for  her  ticket. 

The  clerk,  another  man  from  the  one  she  saw  be 
fore,  looked  at  the  paper  pinned  upon  the  window- 
frame,  and  said  : 

"  Is  this  Miss  Marhill?" 

"Why,  yes,"  replied  Jane. 

"  Miss  Marhill,  your  father  is  on  the  train.  He  is 
coming  up  from  Lawrence.  He  left  word  this  morning 
that  he  has  your  ticket  and  you  were  to  buy  none." 

So  Jane  took  Gretchen  into  the  palace  car,  as  the 
train  stopped,  and  in  a  moment  was  in  her  father's 

arms. 

*  #  *  #•  #  •* 


22  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Everybody  laughed  heartily  at  the  end  of  Mrs. 
Frechette's  little  story.  But  Tom,  her  husband,  said  : 

"  It  ends  like  all  the  rest  of  them,  I  observe. 
'  The  new  invention  is  very  fine. 

"  But  I  see  that,  all  the  same,  the  man  pays  for  the 
tickets." 

And  on  this  they  told  Caesar  that  he  might  make 
up  the  berths.  The  men  went  forward  to  see  what  was 
the  cause  of  the  detention.  Theodora  and  Mary  kissed 
each  other,  and  in  an  hour  every  one  on  the  train, 
except  the  working  hands,  was  sleeping  soundly — more 
soundly,  indeed,  than  is  usual  on  a  train. 


CHAPTER  II. 

PAUL  DECKER  AND  THEODORA  BOURN. 

THE  next  morning  Caesar  took  a  hint  from  the 
P.  P.  C.,  which  letters  mean  Pullman  Palace  Conductor. 
This  right  worthy  commander  told  Caesar  there  was 
no  need  of  waking  the  sleepers  ;  and  the  sleepers, 
most  of  whom  had  slept  at  the  rate  of  thirty-five  miles 
an  hour  for  the  last  two  or  three  nights  before,  finding 
themselves  in  perfect  stillness  and  well-nigh  perfect 
darkness,  availed  themselves  of  the  occasion,  and  made 
up  for  past  deficiencies. 

When,  at  eight  o'clock,  one  and  another  began  to 
find  themselves  wakeful,  the  mystery  of  silence  and 
stillness  was  explained.  The  train  was  switched  off 
the  main  track  at  the  Brady  Island  station,  and  had 
been  for  hours.  Something  had  happened  at  the  east 
ward — no  one  knew  what.  The  telegraph  answered 
to  no  appeals  except  from  the  west.  We  could  not 
even  hear  from  Council  Bluffs  by  the  reverse  way  of 
Denver  and  the  K.  P.  R.,  as  we  tried  to  do. 

"  We  shall  have  to  ride  a  little  way  on  Christmas 
morning,  after  all,  Miss  Bourn,  if  your  scruples  will 
permit.  We  shall  hardly  leave  the  Bluffs  this  after 
noon,  as  I  had  promised  you." 

And  so  Hector  and  Mary  and  Theodora  went  back 
to  breakfast.  They  found  George  Hackmetack  and 
the  Frechettes  in  the  breakfast  car  already,  and  most 
of  the  other  palace  people  soon  reported.  No  morn- 


24  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

ing  newspaper,  but  no  lack  of  topics  for  talk  in  the 
discussion  of  the  probabilities  of  the  delay. 

As  it  proved,  the  delay  gave  us  two  pleasant  ad 
ditions  to  our  party,  and,  indeed,  our  one  adventure. 

No  one  needed  to  hurry  at  breakfast,  more  than 
they  had  hurried  in  waking.  One  by  one  the  gentle 
men  strayed  out  for  their  cigars,  and  all  the  ladies,  as 
it  happened,  were  left  with  Van  Sandfoord  alone,  chat 
ting  over  grapes  and  coffee.  It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock 
when  Caesar  came  back  to  see  what  had  happened  to 
his  gentlemen  and  ladies,  and  the  little  group  then 
made  their  way  slowly  forward.  Van  Sandfoord  left 
the  ladies  in  the  palace,  and  went  out  upon  the  little 
platform  of  the  station. 

He  was  walking  with  a  ranchman,  whom  he  met 
there,  when  Caesar  came  up,  a  good  deal  excited  : 

"  Your  lady,  sar,  say  the  other  lady  lost — little  black 
bonnet  lady  lost — not  come  back  from  breakfuss. " 

"  Lost,  Caesar  !"  cried  Hector,  laughing.  '  How 
can  she  be  lost  in  two  cars  ?  I  wish  there  were  more 
chance  for  all  of  us  to  be  lost."  But  he  hurried  back 
to  see  what  his  wife's  message  really  was,  and  found 
that  Csesar  had  not  blundered. 

The  women  had  gathered  by  themselves  —  had 
brought  out  books  and  work.  Mrs.  Frechette  had 
started  a  little  water-color  sketch,  and  things  began 
to  seem  sociable,  when  they  had  noticed  that  Theodora 
did  not  appear.  Mary  Van  Sandfoord  sent  Caesar 
back  to  the  breakfast-room,  to  ask  her  to  come  and 
see  how  comfortable  they  were,  and  she  was  not  there. 
Some  one  suggested  that  she  had  friends  forward  ;  but 
they  were  worried  now,  and  Caesar  was  sent  forward 
in  vain. 

Hector  was  sure  that  she  had  not  passed  him  or  ap- 


PAUL   DECKER   AND    THEODORA    BOURN.  25 


peared  on  the  station  platform,  and  so  were  all  the 
gentlemen  who  had  been  grouped  and  smoking  there. 
Every  search  and  even  every  guess  was  exhausted  in 
dumb  wonder,  when  from  the  other  side  of  the  snow 
bound  station  we  were  loudly  hailed.  Every  one  ran 
round  the  corner,  and  we  met  a  vigorous  young  man 
with  poor  Theodora  unconscious  in  his  arms.  He  was 
stepping  slowly  on  snow-shoes,  and  followed  by  a  com 
panion. 

"  Have  you  so  many  women  here  that  you  leave 
them  lying  alone  in  the  snow?"  he  said,  as  he  carried 
his  charge  into  the  open  door-way  of  the  station. 

Just  where  the  heaviest  drift  formed,  high  and 
treacherous  against  the  bare  open  way  left  by  the  gale, 
as  it  swept  round  the  corner  of  the  house,  the  poor 
girl  had  fallen  and  lay  wholly  senseless  when  he  found 
her.  It  proved,  when  she  came  to  herself,  that  as  she 
crossed  from  the  kitchen  to  the  palace — how  easy  that 
transition  seems  sometimes  ! — her  veil  had  blown  from 
her  hand,  and  lay  in  tantalizing  neighborhood  on  the 
bare  ground  below.  It  was  nothing  for  the  girl  to  step 
down  for  it.  But,  as  she  stepped,  it  was  nothing  for 
the  veil  to  fly  a  few  yards  from  her.  She  followed  as 
promptly — followed  without  a  Yankee  girl's  knowledge 
of  snow,  wholly  ignorant  of  the  capacities  of  a  snow 
drift — made  two  fatal  steps  into  a  bed  two  or  three  feet 
deep,  which  yielded  immediately  under  her,  fell  for 
ward  on  her  face,  struggled  vainly  with  both  hands 
and  arms,  and  in  a  few  moments  forgot  everything. 

It  was,  as  we  guessed,  within  five  minutes  or  ten 
that  she  was  telling  us  this,  while  Mrs.  Frechette 
chafed  one  arm,  and  Mary  Van  Sandfoord  one  foot,  as 
she  sat  in  the  one  arm-chair  of  the  "  Ladies'  Room." 

The  knights  who  had  come  to  the  rescue  so  fort- 


26  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

unately  were  Fergus  Menet  and  one  of  his  chemists, 
a  young  fellow  named  Decker. 

Luckily  for  Theodora,  they  had  ridden  across  from 
some  explorations  they  had  been  making,  to  strike  our 
train,  but  had  been  hindered  by  the  snow — had  had 
to  give  up  their  horses  and  take  to  snow-shoes. 

Luckily  for  them  our  train  was  half  a  day  or  less 
behind  time. 

As  they  came  up  they  saw  our  lazy  engine  and  our 
silent  cars,  with  mingled  joy  and  terror,  for  they  could 
not  see  a  living  being  to  signal,  yet  at  any  moment 
the  train  might  move  from  them. 

Just  as  Decker,  in  advance,  was  hailing  the  station, 
he  saw  the  corner  of  Theodora's  frock  straying  out  from 
the  snow.  The  unconscious  girl  was  already  nearly 
covered  by  the  rapid  drift. 

It  needed  then  but  a  moment  for  these  strong  men 
to  uncover  her,  and  bring  her  into  the  station-house. 

Theodora  was  taken  up  into  the  little  state-room  of 
the  Pullman,  so  soon  as  her  blood  was  well  started. 
Mrs.  Frechette  and  Mary  shut  themselves  in  with  her, 
and  presided  over  the  cares  of  her  recovery.  Cassar  was 
sent  forward  with  her  check  for  her  trunk,  which  was 
brought  and  opened  in  the  palace  ;  and,  in  the  course 
of  half  an  hour,  she  appeared  again.  She  was  very 
much  mortified  at  making  so  much  fuss ;  very  pretty, 
nicely  and  dryly  dressed,  and  just  as  well  as  if  she  had 
had  the  good  luck  to  take  a  good  cold  sponge  bath 
before  she  dressed — a  bit  of  luxury  which  had  been 
denied  to  all  the  rest  of  us. 

"  And  to  think,"  cried  Mary,  "  of  being  rescued  and 
restored  by  the  great  Fergus  Menet  himself." 

For  Mary  had  found  out  from  her  husband  who  the 
new-comers  were. 


PAUL   DECKER  AND    THEODORA    BOUR.\'.          27 

Theodora  asked  who  "the  great  Fergus  Menet" 
was  ? 

11  Do  you  not  know  who  Fergus  Menet  is  ?  A  Cali 
fornia  girl  not  know  Fergus  Menet  ?  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte  or  of  Queen  Victoria  ?" 

"  I  think  I  once  heard  a  Chinaman  speak  of  Queen 
Victoria.  But  who  is  the  other  one  ?  Was  he  not  the 
King  of  the  Cannibal  Islands  ?" 

"Oh,  Theodora,  you  are  joking.  Why,  Fergus 
Menet,  he  is  '  M.,  P.  &  V.'— '  Menet,  Perry,  and  Ville 
Fosse.'  You  hardly  ever  see  a  block  of  silver  our  way 
but  is  marked  '  M.,  P.  &  V.'  And  he  is  as  good  as 
he  is  rich,  and  all  women  ought  to  know  about  him. 
"  When  you  are  rested,  I  will  tell  you  all  his  story — " 

"  Rested  ?  Dear  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord,  I  am  rested 
now.  Was  ever  your  Queen  Victoria — if  that  is  her 
name — more  comfortable  in  Windsor?" 

Pretty  girl,  she  might  well  say  so.  Caesar  had 
opened  out  17,  18,  19,  and  20.  He  had  brought  in,  I 
know  not  how  many  pillows,  and  heaped  them  up,  as 
loves  in  the  pictures  heap  cushions  on  the  barge  for 
Cleopatra.  And  there  our  rosy,  eager,  modest  The 
odora  half  lay  and  half  sat,  with  every  conceivable 
colored  rug  which  the  stores  of  all  the  party  could  pro 
duce  piled  round  her,  while  the  rich  crimson  of  the 
Pullman  blankets  gave  the  dominating  color  for  the 
picture. 

"  There  is  no  time  like  this,"  said  Theodora,  "  if 
it  would  not  tire  you  to  tell  us." 

"  Tire  me  !  Such  things  do  not  tire  me.  Besides, 
it  is  all  written  down." 

And  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord  opened  her  extensor  case. 
It  was  packed  woman-fashion  with  all  Mary's  treas 
ures.  Her  Thomas  a  Kempis,  and  her  diamond 


28  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

brooch,  and  her  little  brother's  picture,  and  her  last 
letter  from  her  mother,  kissed  one  another  amicably, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole,  in  a  yellow  envelope, 
just  as  Miss  Norton  had  sent  it  to  her  from  Gallatin, 
was  the  story  of  Fergus  Menet  and  Ellen  Markley. 
As  the  Independent  people  had  named  it,  it  was  called 

TOGETHER. 

I.    NEW  PADUA. 

"  SHALL  you  go  to  your  uncle's  for  your  Thanksgiv 
ing  dinner  ?" 

Ellen  asked  this  question  a  little  timidly. 

"No,"  said  Fergus,  rather  shortly;  and  then  he 
added,  with  an  artificial  smile  :  "  I  shall  take  pot-luck 
here  with  Mrs.  Odonto,  unless  your  aunt  asks  me." 

Mrs.  Odonto  kept  the  boarding-house  at  which 
Fergus  and  Ellen  both  lived. 

"  No,"  said  Ellen — and  her  smile  was  half  a  smile 
only,  and  her  eyes  looked  a  little  wet — "  my  aunt  will 
not  ask  you  ;  for — for — I  have  told  her  that  I  should 
not  accept  her  invitation." 

Fergus  fairly  laughed  this  time. 

"  Have  you  had  a  row  there?  I  have  had  a  row 
with  my  uncle." 

Fergus  and  Ellen  were  engaged  to  be  married,  and 
had  been  for  a  year  past.  He  was  the  assistant 
teacher  in  chemistry  in  the  State  Agricultural  College. 

This  meant  that  he  opened  and  shut  the  shutters, 
according  as  the  professor's  experiments  required  sun 
or  shade,  and  that  he  cleared  up  the  broken  glass  and 
other  fragments  when  the  professor  was  done.  The 
place  was  rather  a  galling  one  for  Fergus,  who  knew 
perhaps  as  much  of  the  new  chemistry  as  the  professor 
did.  As  for  Ellen,  she  was  an  assistant  teacher  in  the 


PAUL   DECKER  AND    THEODORA    BOURN.          29 

same  college  ;  for  the  State  Agricultural  College  was 
also  the  State  University,  and  in  that  State  co-educa 
tion  existed.  So  Ellen  taught  young  men  and  young 
women  to  square  the  hypothenuse  and  to  work  out 
the  binomial  theorem;  while  in  the  basement  Fergus 
Menet  swept  up  the  fragments,  and  chafed  when  the 
professor  failed  in  his  experiments. 

The  drawback  about  the  Thanksgiving  dinner  began 
deeper  down  than  you  might  guess.  Fergus  had  made 
an  evening  call  at.  his  uncle's,  knowing  that  he  would 
be  welcome  on  Thanksgiving  day,  and  hoping,  nay  ex 
pecting,  that  they  would  ask  Ellen  Markley  to  come 
with  him.  His  engagement  to  her  was  perfectly 
understood.  His  aunt  had  called  on  Ellen,  and  Ellen 
had  returned  the  call.  Instead  of  this  his  aunt  had 
made  an  excuse  to  be  alone  with  him.  Then  she  had 
said,  half  in  joke  and  half  in  earnest,  as  it  seemed, 
that  Miss  Gholson,  from  Albany,  was  coming  to  visit 
her  ;  that  Miss  Gholson  had  been  very  much  inter 
ested  in  Fergus  when  he  spoke  at  Saratoga,  at  the 
Association  ;  that  she  had  spoken  of  him  several  times, 
as  if  she  remembered  him  ;  that  she  had  an  immense 
fortune  in  her  own  right  ;  and  that  if  Fergus  would 
"  follow  his  hand,"  as  his  aunt  elegantly  said,  he  could 
win  Miss  Gholson's  and  could  be  independent  for  life. 
In  reply  to  all  this,  Fergus  had  said,  very  simply  at  first, 
that  he  was  engaged  to  the  sweetest  girl  in  the  world  ; 
and  when  his  aunt  intimated  that  such  things  meant 
nothing  with  young  people,  Fergus  had  flared  up  and 
gone  away  in  a  rage.  This  rage  had  not  subsided 
when  Ellen  Markley  asked  him,  as  you  know,  if  he 
should  go  to  his  uncle's  for  his  Thanksgiving  dinner. 

All  this,  of  course,  Ellen  did  not  understand. 
Fergus  would  not  insult  her  by  telling  her.  But 


30  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

what  Ellen  did  understand,  and  had  understood  for 
weeks,  was  that  she  would  not  taste  salt  nor  turkey 
on  Thanksgiving  day  at  the  stately  mansion  of  the 
Robervals.  The  Robervals  were  old  Huguenot  people. 
They  lived  four  miles  out  from  New  Padua,  in  an 
elegant  way.  Mrs.  Roberval  was  Ellen's  aunt  ;  and 
last  year  Ellen  was  there  at  Thanksgiving  and  at 
Christmas.  But  it  happened,  oddly  enough,  that 
Mrs.  Roberval  had  been  making  a  match  for  Ellen  just 
about  the  time  her  engagement  for  Fergus  came  on. 
The  stately  and  rich  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  the  great  Con 
necticut  manufacturer,  had  seen  Ellen  at  the  Rober 
vals',  had  admired  her,  had  offered  himself,  and  had 
been  refused.  But  Mrs.  Roberval  had  told  him  that 
faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady,  and  he  could  not  give 
up.  And  an  eager  letter  had  come  from  him,  and 
Mrs.  Roberval  had  shown  it  to  Ellen  and  had  made 
her  cry.  And  Ellen  had  said  to  herself  that  she  would 
not  go  to  Rochelle  House  to  dine  for  all  the  world,  if 
they  did  not  ask  Fergus  ;  and,  as  Ellen  knew,  they 
were  as  likely  to  ask  Sitting  Bull. 

So  was  it  that,  for  reasons  not  dissimilar,  these  two 
young  people  were  to  have  their  Thanksgiving  dinner 
with  such  company  as  Mrs.  Odonto  might  supply,  at 
the  boarding-house  table. 

II.   A   THANKSGIVING   DINNER. 

I  do  not  know.  What  I  do  not  know  is  this  : 
whether  Mrs.  Odonto  was  glad  or  sorry  that  Fergus 
Menet  and  Ellen  Markley  notified  her  that  they  should 
dine  at  the  boarding-house. 

What  I  do  know  is  :  that  Rose  Finegan,  the  cook, 
expected  a  holiday  that  day,  and  that  Mary  Maginnis, 
the  table-girl,  was  going  to  the  Mills  for  the  day  ;  so 


PAUL   DECKER   AND    THEODORA    BOURN.  31 

I  think  that  Mrs.  Odonto  hoped  that  all  the  boarders 
would  dine  away  from  what  she  was  pleased  to  call 
"  home."  I  am  sure  none  of  the  boarders  called  it  so. 

However,  Mrs.  Odonto  bore  up  bravely,  and  made 
no  sign  of  anxiety  or  regret,  though  she  knew  that  the 
Thanksgiving  dinner  would  have  to  be  cooked  by  her 
own  red  right  hand. 

But  when  Ellen  heard  that  Mrs.  Odonto's  brigadier 
and  major-generals  were  to  desert  her,  or  to  assume 
other  fields  of  duty,  she  changed  her  plans,  and  she 
persuaded  Fergus  to  change  his.  She  did  not  think  it 
at  all  "nice"  that  Mrs.  Odonto  should  have  to  slave 
and  slave  just  to  get  them  a  dinner  ;  so  she  proposed 
that  they  should  turn  Mrs.  Odonto  out  of  doors  also. 
She  would  ask  Minna  Ville-Fosse,  who  was  the  Ger 
man  teacher  in  the  Agricultural  College,  to  come  and 
dine  with  them  ;  and  she  and  Minna  would  cook  the 
dinner.  If  Fergus  were  to  marry  her,  she  said,  it  was 
but  right  that  he  should  know  whether  she  could  cook 
a  dinner.  As  for  him,  he  might  ask  home  any  gentle 
man  he  liked.  He  should  be  a  nice  gentleman,  Ellen 
said,  who  would  like  to  talk  with  Minna,  who  was  a 
very  charming  girl. 

Fergus  grumbled  a  little  at  the  necessity  of  being 
hospitable.  But  Ellen  told  him — what  he  knew  very 
well  before — that  there  was  no  Thanksgiving  unless 
they  shared  what  was  provided  ;  and  intimated  that, 
if  she  and  he  spent  the  day  together,  with  or  without 
Mrs.  Odonto's  company,  they  might  become  tired  of 
each  other  too  soon.  It  ended,  of  course,  in  her  hav 
ing  her  own  way.  Mrs.  Odonto  said  she  would  take 
the  morning  car  for  New  Herkimer,  and  the  young 
people  were  to  work  their  own  sweet  will  in  the  kitchen 
and  dining-room.  Nay,  before  Thanksgiving  day 


32  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

came,  the  kitchen  was  given  over  on  Tuesday  after 
noon  to  Ellen  and  to  her  friend  Minna.  And  there,  in 
the  secrecy  of  a  cabbala  whose  oracles  no  man  shall 
interpret,  they  created  pies  and  tarts  and  jellies,  now 
of  Yankee,  now  of  German  workmanship — enough,  one 
would  have  said,  for  a  dinner  of  twenty  covers  ;  but  in 
truth  all  prepared  for  one  of  four. 

Fergus  hesitated  a  little  about  the  guest  he  should 
bring,  to  be  agreeable  to  the  Fraulein  Minna.  College 
professors,  resident  graduates,  unmarried  ministers  in 
the  town  passed  in  procession  before  his  mind,  as  he 
determined  which  of  them  should  have  the  honor  of 
being  selected  as  fourth  hand  in  this  select  game 
of  Thanksgiving  day.  But  Fergus  also  was  under  the 
influence  of  the  day  ;  and  he  finally  gave  his  invita 
tion,  not  to  one  of  these  people  who  were  to  choose 
between  four  or  five  parties,  but  to  a  new-found  friend 
of  his,  whose  room  was  in  the  attic  of  the  Too-Good 
House,  and  who  would  have  taken  his  chance  at  the 
stage  dinner  of  that  inn,  had  not  Fergus  remembered 
him.  This  was  a  seedy-looking  man,  named  Perry, 
whom  Fergus  had  found  at  the  Union.  At  the  Union 
he  had  a  sort  of  natural  history  class7  made  up  of 
factory  hands  and  shop  clerks,  whom  he  was  initiating 
into  the  mysteries  of  mineralogy  and  geology.  Fergus 
had  been  drawn  toward  him  since  the  first  time  he  saw 
him.  Perry  had  asked  him  to  let  him  use  the  labora 
tory,  to  make  some  rather  intricate  examinations  of 
some  bog-ore  the  boys  had  brought  back  from  a  vaca 
tion  ramble.  The  man  seemed  to  have  had  a  spe 
cialist's  training.  Very  crude  in  some  things  he  was, 
very  shrewd  in  others.  Pie  was  very  lonely  in  the 
town,  and,  as  Fergus  knew,  would  hardly  call  any  one 
his  friend  excepting  him.  But  Perry  knew  very  well 


PAUL   DECKER  AND    THEODORA    BOURN.  33 

what  Thanksgiving  day  was.  Even  in  his  loneliness  he 
had  found  it  the  loneliest  day  in  the  year,  ever  since 
he  had  been  in  America  ;  and  the  tears  fairly  stood  in 
his  eyes  when  he  received  and  accepted  Fergus's  in 
vitation. 

Fergus  compelled  Perry  to  go  to  "  meeting"  with 
him.  No  man  would  dare  say  whether  Perry  had  ful 
filled  righteousness  in  that  way  before  since  he  had 
lived  in  New  Padua.  But  they  heard  Mr.  Cross  preach 
a  sermon  on  the  Indian  policy  of  the  General  Govern 
ment,  they  put  their  surplus  earnings  into  the  contri 
bution-box,  and  then,  as  instructed  by  the  women 
folk,  they  took  a  long  walk  before  they  returned  to 
dinner.  They  found  the  table  set  ;  and  in  a  little  while 
the  ladies  came  in,  with  their  faces  aglow,  but  not  too 
much  aglow,  and  condescended  to  let  the  gentlemen 
bring  in  the  heavy  turkey  and  the  chicken-pie,  while 
they  followed  with  trays  laden  with  side-dishes.  In 
this  self-service  there  was  quite  frolic  enough  to  break 
the  ice.  Fergus  asked  a  blessing  with  good  heart, 
and  from  Boothia  Felix  to  the  Farallones  Islands  there 
was  not  a  jollier  Thanksgiving  dinner  that  day  than 
this  proved  to  be. 

Minna  Ville-Fosse  was,  indeed,  what  Ellen  had  rep 
resented  her  —  a  sweet,  pretty  girl.  French  blood 
mixed  with  German  in  her  blushes,  and  French  bright 
ness  and  German  sense  in  her  talk.  Her  English  was, 
like  Kossuth's,  just  broken  enough  and  unidiomatic 
enough  to  be  suggestive  and  entertaining.  As  for 
Perry,  you  never  knew  where  to  find  him.  The  New 
Education,  which  is  just  now  showing  its  results,  cer 
tainly  brings  curiosity  and  surprise  into  conversation. 
You  never  know  what  a  man  will  understand  nor 
where  his  mind  will  be  a  blank.  Mr.  Perry  sat  per- 


34  OUR    CHRISTMAS   IN  A    PALACE. 

fectly  silent  when  the  others  tried  some  quite  familiar 
themes  of  literature.  On  the  other  hand,  he  would 
come  out  with  a  world  of  curious  and  entertaining  in 
formation  about  things  where  archangels  might  be 
pardoned  for  ignorance. 

Of  all  which  talk,  now  very  serious  and  now  very 
merry,  the  only  part  which  much  concerns  this  story 
fell  after  dinner,  when  they  were  wasting  Mrs. 
Odonto's  hard  cut  logs  in  a  great  open  fireplace  in  her 
parlor.  Fergus  had  been  grinding  an  axe  by  making 
Minna  Ville-Fosse  explain  to  him  some  phrases  in  his 
German  mining-books.  She  proved  to  be  an  expert 
of  the  hundred-thousandth  power. 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  know  all  these  crack- 
jaw  words?"  cried  he,  at  last. 

'  Why  not  ?  How  should  I  know  any  other  words? 
I  have  lived  at  Freiberg  till  I  was  fifteen.  My  father 
was  a  superintendent  of  mines.  My  grandfather  was 
a  famous  mining  engineer.  All  my  dear  brothers  are 
underground  at  this  moment,  I  suppose." 

Mr.  Perry  left  talking  with  Ellen,  almost  rudely,  and 
directed  his  attention  to  the  book  and  the  talk.  In  a 
minute  the  reason  appeared.  He  was  a  Welshman. 
All  his  earlier  life  had  been  spent  in  Swansea.  The 
name  of  Ville-Fosse  was  as  familiar  to  him  as  the  name 
of  Worth  is  to  a  Baltimore  belle  or  of  Edwards  to  an 
Andover  student  ;  and,  without  thinking  much  of  his 
manners,  he  turned  to  listen. 

Then  what  talk  there  was  about  schists,  and  gangues, 
and  carbonates,  and  pyrites  ;  about  Himmelsfiirst,  and 
Veta  Grande,  and  Veta  Madre  ;  about  limestone  and 
fluxes,  and  rubbish,  what  had  been  done  and  what 
might  be  done  and  what  ought  to  be  done,  till  Ellen 
declared  herself  disgusted.  She  would  not  be  left  out 


PAUL   DECKER   AND    THEODORA    BOURN.  35 

in  the  cold,  she  said.  She  opened  Mrs.  Odonto's  card 
table,  and  made  them,  willy-nilly,  give  up  their  beloved 
assays  and  reductions.  She  produced  a  new  pack  of 
cards,  and  taught  them  all  to  play  ombre,  which  was 
the  game  of  the  Rape  of  the  Lock.  Ombre  is  whist 
as  whist  would  be  under  a  despot.  Whist  is  ombre 
where  the  despot  has  had  his  head  cut  off,  and 
peasants,  merchants,  priests,  and  soldiers,  or  clubs, 
diamonds,  hearts,  and  spades,  are  equal  in  their  rights 
before  the  law.  But  Ellen  made  them  play  ombre. 
Most  women,  in  their  heart  of  hearts,  incline  for 
despotism  in  government. 

III.   PROSPECTING. 

And  this  is  all  that  can  be  told  of  that  gay  little  pic 
nic  dinner-party.  What  grew  out  of  it  all  seemed 
simple  enough  at  the  time.  When  Fergus  found  that 
Mr.  Perry  had  spent  all  his  early  life  in  the  various 
grades  of  smelting  works  in  Swansea,  he  told  him  that 
New  Padua  was  no  place  for  him,  which,  alas  !  poor 
Perry  knew  well  enough  already.  Fergus  told  Perry 
that  he  ought  to  be  in  Arizona.  He  showed  him,  in 
the  college  library,  in  Allegre  and  Venegas,  the  evi 
dence  that  there  was  a  time  when  the  chief  fountain  of 
Spanish  wealth  flowed  in  silver  from  far-off  Arizona. 
The  attic  of  the  Too-Good  House  was  no  place  for 
him,  while  sulphurets  and  carbonates  were  waiting  for 
him  to  torture  them  under  a  sky  so  delicious.  In 
Sonora,  just  over  the  border,  was  found  the  largest 
nugget  of  silver  ever  seen,  preserved  perhaps  to  this 
hour  in  some  museum  in  Spain.  That  did  not  weigh 
quite  three  thousand  pounds,  and  probably  was  not 
worth  fifty  thousand  dollars.  "  But  you  shall  find  a 
bigger  one,"  said  Fergus.  'You  shall  send  next 


36  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

Thanksgiving  one  fifty-thousand-dollar  nugget  to  Ellen 
and  another  to  Miss  Minna  here,  and  we  will  drink 
your  health  in  a  cup  of  Mrs.  Odonto's  best  black 
coffee." 

Poor  Mr.  Perry  knew  this,  of  course,  well  nigh  a3 
well  as  Fergus  ;  only  the  sinews  of  war  failed  him. 
Here  Fergus  came  to  the  rescue.  He  had  a  square 
talk  with  Perry  and  learned  his  whole  story.  Perry 
had  broken  down  in  Swansea  and  "  was  cleaned  out" 
there,  as  the  carnal  say.  What  was  the  break-down  I 
do  not  know.  Only  it  was  not  dishonesty  and  it  was 
not  gambling.  Probably  it  was  liquor,  which  is  at  the 
bottom  of  so  large  a  proportion  of  the  wretchedness  of 
our  times  that,  when  you  know  nothing  to  the  con 
trary,  you  may  take  this  for  granted.  Whatever  it 
was,  Fergus  knew.  I  do  not.  Fergus  had  confidence 
enough  in  his  man  to  believe  him  a  man  of  honor  ;  and 
after  consulting  with  Ellen  and  with  her  full  consent, 
Fergus  borrowed  at  the  First  National  Bank  five  hun 
dred  dolkrs  on  the  pledge  of  bonds  to  that  amount, 
and  boldly  lent  the  money  tu  Mr.  Perry  to  go  to 
Arizona,  to  try  his  fortune.  He  got  letters  for  him  to 
General  Fremont,  to  Mrs.  Fremont,  and  to  Mr.  Weber, 
and  before  Christmas  Mr.  Perry  was  on  his  way. 

And  this  adventure  went  much  farther  than  they 
supposed.  Letters  came  from  Mr.  Perry  every  week. 
Sometimes  he  was  up  ;  sometimes  he  was  down.  But 
one  May  morning,  just  after  Fergus  had  hung  a  basket 
of  arbutus,  of  liverwort,  and  anemone  on  the  handle 
of  Ellen's  door,  he  walked  down  to  the  village  for  his 
mail,  and  in  the  mail  was  the  critical  letter  from  San 
Xavier  del  Bac  on  which  hinges  the  end  of  this  story. 

Mr.  Perry  had  obtained  control  of  just  the  property 
he  wanted.  Capital  was  needed,  of  course  ;  but  cap- 


PAUL  DECKER  AND    THEODORA    BOURN.          37 

ital  would  come,  could  one  be  sure  of  brains,  scientific 
knowledge,  and  business  faculty.  As  for  the  sinking 
of  shafts,  the  development  of  the  mine,  and  the 
other  general  work  of  bringing  the  one  to  be  fit  for 
anything,  Mr.  Perry  had  no  fear  for  his  own  ability. 
But  as  for  the  smelting,  he  was  wholly  dissatisfied  with 
all  he  saw — as  well  with  the  old  Mexican  traditions 
as  with  the  new  hand-to-mouth  California  makeshifts, 
as  he  coolly  called  them.  And  the  letter,  therefore, 
ended  with  these  pregnant  sentences  :  "  In  short,  my 
dear  sir,  you  have  seen  my  drift  already.  If  you  could 
come  out  here  to  live — of  course,  with  your  wife — I 
believe  we  could  have  the  best  mine  here  and  the  best 
smelting  mills.  And,  observe,  the  last  is  vastly  the  more 
important  of  the  two.  A  mine  may  or  may  not  play 
out  ;  or  there  may  be  a  thousand  better  mines.  Quien 
sabe  ?  But  there  cannot  be  better  smelting  than  you 
and  I  ought  to  be  able  to  establish  here.  Then  let 
there  be  a  thousand  and  one  mines,  why,  so  much  the 
better  for  you  and  me. 

"  Could  not  Miss  Ville-Fosse  send  for  one  of  those 
brothers  of  hers  from  Freiberg  ?  I  do  not  want  to 
underrate  your  chemistry,  nor  my  own,  of  course  ; 
but  I  observe  that  the  German  gentlemen  here  are  reti 
cent,  and  that  some  things  which  they  do  they  do  in 
secret.  If  you  and  I  were  together,  and  Mr.  Ville- 
Fosse  prove  to  have  the  average  practical  knowledge 
of  the  Freiberg  people  I  have  known  here  and  in 
Europe,  why,  we  would  beat  the  world." 

IV.    ANOTHER   DINNER. 

It  was  on  the  strength  of  this  letter  that  Fergus  him 
self  went  to  Arizona,  to  see  how  the  country  lay.  A 
costly  journey  it  was,  too,  for  Arizona  was  a  hard  place 


38  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

to  reach  in  those  days,  nor  is  it  easy  to  reach  now.  But 
Fergus  persuaded  Rising,  at  the  New  Altona  newspaper 
office,  that  he  wanted  some  letters  from  the  mines  ; 
and,  on  the  strength  of  an  engagement  there,  he 
made  another  engagement  with  a  great  "  Metropolitan 
Daily"  to  write  to  them.  And,  by  kving  on  light  fare 
as  he  travelled,  and  writing  on  these  letters  at  every 
instant  when  trains  ceased  joggling,  he  made  both  ends 
meet  without  too  terrible  an  inroad  on  the  little  capi 
tal,  which  would  be  so  essential  if  Perry's  views  were 
confirmed. 

And  Perry's  views  were  confirmed,  so  far  that  Fergus 
came  back  to  New  Padua,  and  persuaded  Ellen  Mark- 
ley  to  marry  him  then  and  there.  If  he  went  to  Ari 
zona,  she  would  go.  And  he  went,  and  she  went. 
Fritz  Ville-Fosse  had  been  written  to,  and  he  was  only 
too  glad  to  see  in  place  with  his  own  eyes  ores  which 
he  had  written  about  and  heard  about  for  so  many 
years.  He  was  even  able,  with  the  help  of  his  friends, 
to  contribute  something  to  the  little  capital  of  the  trio  ; 
while  Fergus  was  doing  his  utmost,  by  way  of  wed 
ding  preparations,  to  induce  his  friends  also  to  sub 
scribe — for  their  own  good,  as  he  believed. 


So  is  it  that  the  next  Thanksgiving  day  finds  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Menet — that  is  to  say,  Fergus  and  his  wife 
Ellen — keeping  house  in  their  adobe  palace,  within  the 
sound  of  the  bells  of  the  old  mission  church  of  Santa 
Madre  de  los  Remedies.  And  these  bells,  which  men 
said  were  two  centuries  old,  were  ringing  all  that  morn 
ing.  Mr.  Perry,  who  was  a  guest,  said  that  it  was  St. 
Jonathan's  day  ;  but  this  was  his  little  joke.  He  had 
been  out  with  his  gun  two  or  three  days  before,  and 
had  brought  in  two  matchless  turkeys  for  the  feast  ; 


PAUL  DECKER  AND  THEODORA  BOURN.    39 

and  while  in  every  adobe  in  the  neighborhood  Mexican 
women  were  at  work  over  their  ollas  or  were  frying 
their  tortillas,  Ellen  and  Minna  Ville-Fosse  found  them 
selves  recalling  the  memories  of  Mrs.  Odonto's  kitchen, 
as  they  rolled  out  pastry,  stewed  the  great  dice  they 
cut  from  majestic  pumpkins,  and  performed  other  rites 
of  the  annual  mysteries  of  New  England. 

Mr.  Perry  could  not  be  made  to  go  with  Fergus  to 
attend  at  mass,  at  the  daily  service  of  the  church  of 
Santa  Madre.  Not  he  !  He  would  watch  those  stupid 
dogs  who  were  building  the  chimney.  But  Fergus  was 
true,  not  so  much  to  a  conviction,  indeed,  as  to  a  sen 
timent  ;  and,  with  devotion  quickened  by  gratitude, 
and  gratitude  more  grateful  for  devotion,  joined  the 
queer  company  of  dirty  children,  and  mothers  as  dirty, 
who  kneeled  before  the  broken  altar-rail,  as  a  swarthy 
priest,  in  vestments  of  the  most  equivocal  character, 
elevated  the  host  and  repeated  what  he  could  from  a 
liturgy  which  he  could  not  understand.  Shall  we 
blame  Fergus  if  the  prayer  that  he  uttered  in  his  heart 
of  hearts  was  accompanied  by  the  vow  that  these 
mothers  and  these  children  should  have  better  chances 
in  the  future  to  come  into  a  reasonable  service  to  a 
loving  Father  ? 

The  elevation  of  the  host  did  Fergus  no  harm,  to  be 
sure.  The  hour  he  spent  in  the  old  church  was  an 
hour  which  watered  and  sunned  seeds  which  will  yet 
bear  good  harvest.  At  last  he  left  the  odor  of  incense 
and  other  smells,  of  garlic  and  of  onions,  which  in 
cense  had  not  smothered,  and  came  out  into  the  sweet, 
open  air,  and  stood  on  the  great  slab  in  front  of  the 
church,  to  give  thanks  again  for  air,  and  sunlight, 
and  blue  sky,  and  health,  and  wife,  and  home.  As  he 
looked  right  and  left,  he  saw  the  crowd  of  loafers, 


40  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

"  greasers,"  and  dogs  which  announced  the  arrival  of  a 
stranger.  He  was  not  so  far  beyond  the  realm  of 
curiosity  but  that  he  walked  toward  the  crowd,  while  a 
morose  man  would  have  walked  away  from  it.  Two 
horsemen  appeared,  as  they  might  have  done  in  one 
of  Mr.  James's  novels  ;  and  behind  them  quite  a  little 
train  of  burros — good,  patient  creatures,  with  their 
packs.  A  horde  of  Mexican  children  surrounded  the 
party. 

The  leading  horseman  touched  his  hat  to  Fergus, 
who  advanced  cordially  to  offer  him  the  hospitalities 
of  the  village. 

"  Can  you  be  so  kind  as  to  point  to  us  the  way  to 
the  mines  of  Mr.  Perry  or  Mr.  Menet  ?" 

"  I  am  Mr.  Menet,"  said  Fergus,  hastily.  And  then 
light  struck  him  ;  and  he  saw — what  the  quicker  reader 
has  discovered  already — that  here  was  Fritz  Ville- 
Fosse  in  person.  Warm  was  the  greeting,  eager  the 
surprise,  unintelligible  the  explanations  why  his  letters 
had  not  come  in  advance  ;  and  cheerily  did  Fergus 
lead  him  to  the  adobe,  where  they  surprised  Ellen  and 
Minna,  even  as  they  were  dishing  up  the  Thanksgiving 
dinner. 

Many  a  dinner  had  these  six  afterward  in  that  adobe 
house — now  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  now  on  minced 
meat  made  from  the  dinner  of  the  day  before,  and  now 
on  tortillas  and  hard  tack,  as  might  be  ordered  for 
them  in  the  providence  of  the  good  God  ;  but  never 
was  there  breakfast,  luncheon,  dinner,  tea,  or  supper 
(for  the  house  was  carried  on  on  the  five-meal  princi 
ple),  never  was  a  crust  broken  in  the  daily  sacrament 
of  a  common  meal,  but  that  first  Thanksgiving  day 
was  remembered,  and  the  memory  carried  a  blessing. 
That  Fritz  should  actually  come  in  upon  Minna 


PAUL   DECKER   AND    THEODORA    BOURN.  41 

when  her  hands  upheld  a  gigantic  chicken-pie;  that 
she  had  courage  and  persistency  enough  not  to  drop 
it,  in  her  wonder  and  delight  ;  that  feast,  and  not 
famine,  should  be  his  welcome — all  this,  and  all  that 
belonged  to  it,  made  the  first  Thanksgiving  at  Santa 
Madre  a  feast  to  be  long  remembered. 

They  talked  and  they  talked — now  in  good  Eng 
lish  and  broken  German,  now  in  good  German  and 
broken  English — till  the  small  hours  came  in.  And  in 
that  talk  were  laid  the  foundations  which,  in  all  the 
doubts  and  difficulties  of  years,  secured  ultimate 
triumph.  That  famous  firm  of  Menet,  Perry,  and 
Ville-Fosse  was  then  formed.  That  famous  mono 
gram,  which  unites  the  M.,  P. and  V. — a  monogram  so 
familiar  to  those  who  have  handled  the  Santa  Madre 
ingots — was  then  and  there  devised.  Minna's  was  the 
pattern  which  out  of  a  dozen  commanded  every  suf 
frage  ;  nor  has  it  ever  been  changed  in  their  years  of 
prosperity,  more  than  fabulous. 

And  it  has  been  prosperity  well  deserved.  In  all 
these  years,  whether  of  struggle  or  of  success, 
whether  of  adversity  or  of  prosperity,  they  have  held 
to  the  cordiality  of  the  first  Thanksgiving  dinners. 
Each  of  the  men  has  the  word  "  Together"  cut  upon  his 
watch-seal.  Each  of  the  women  has  "  Together"  in 
scribed  on  the  inner  surface  of  her  wedding-ring. 
Ellen  has  known  the  times  when  she  said  that,  as  shoe 
makers'  wives  are  ill-shod,  the  wives  of  smelters  are 
short  of  money.  Ellen  has  rocked  one  baby  with  her 
foot  on  the  cradle,  has  penned  up  another  with  two 
chairs  on  their  sides,  while  she  fried  the  tortillas  which 
were  the  only  dinner,  because  her  oven  was  so  full  of 
silver-bricks,  which  were  hidden  in  it,  that  she  could 
not  use  it  for  her  weekly  baking.  That  was  in  the 


42  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

week  when  they  had  had  the  riot  just  below  them,  at 
the  Sweetwater  Gulch  ;  and  when  their  own  priest  was 
drunk,  and  nobody  knew  in  the  morning  what  might 
happen  before  night.  But  in  all  such  trials,  as  in  the 
trials  of  prosperity,  so  much  harder  to  be  borne,  those 
five  have  always  held  "  together." 

v.  PARIS. 

And  now,  as  it  happens,  the  last  Thanksgiving  of 
this  story  is  in  Paris. 

Fergus  had  been  invited,  in  a  very  civil  letter  from 
the  president  of  the  Bank  of  France,  to  one  more  con 
ference  on  this  knotty  question,  whether  argent  shall 
continue  to  be  r argent.  Shall  silver  be  money  ?  Of 
course,  as  one  of  the  men  through  whose  hands  an 
immense  fraction  of  it  passes  every  year,  his  opinion 
for  the  present  and  his  judgment  for  the  future  must 
be  taken. 

Fergus  had  telegraphed  to  his  agent  in  Paris  as  to 
his  wishes  for  a  home  for  the  winter,  and  the  agent  had 
bought  the  grand  old  Hotel  De  Rosny,  with  the  pict 
ures — oh  !  such  pictures — and  the  furniture.  And  to 
this  pleasant  home  he  and  Ellen  and  the  children  and 
the  nurses  had  gone  direct  from  the  train  ;  and  they 
felt  as  much  at  home  as  in  New  Padua,  at  Mrs. 
Odonto's.  The  children  might  well  say  this,  as  they 
had  never  seen  that  paradise.  And  Ellen  had  brought 
out  with  her  dear  old  Mrs.  Weeks,  who  could,  with 
some  effort,  concoct  as  good  a  squash  pie  in  the  elabo 
rate  cuisine  of  the  Hotel  De  Rosny  as  Ellen  herself 
had  made  in  Mrs.  Odonto's  kitchen. 

"  Only,"  said  Fergus,  gallantly,  "  it  has  not  exactly 
the  finish  and  the  flavor." 

"  Who  do  you  think  is  coming  ?"  said  he,  as  he  ran 


PAUL   DECKER  AND   THEODORA   BOURN.          43 

in  on  Wednesday  evening.  "  Perry  and  his  wife  have 
just  landed  at  Brest.  The  Pereire  has  had  a  wonderful 
trip.  They  have  taken  the  night  train,  so  as  to  be 
•vith  us  to-morrow  morning." 

"  And  to-morrow  is  Thanksgiving  day  !"  cried 
Ellen.  "  Mrs.  Weeks  and  I  have  contrived  every 
thing  as  if  we  were  at  home.  Turkeys,  chicken-pies, 
Marlboro'  puddings,  cranberry  tarts,  Washington  pies, 
nuts,  figs,  and  raisins — you  shall  not  know  you  are 
not  in  South  Slickville. " 

And  Fergus  said  :  "As  soon  as  I  heard  that  Minna 
would  be  here,  I  telegraphed  for  Fritz.  Here  is  his 
answer.  He  could  not  arrive  on  the  regular  mail- train  ; 
but  he  has  chartered  a  special  engine  and  is  crossing 
from  Saxony,  a  hundred  kilometres  an  hour,  at  this 
living  moment,  to  be  with  you  at  breakfast-time  to 
morrow.  He  does  not  say,  but  I  hope  his  little  wife 
is  with  him." 

And  his  little  wife  was  with  him  ;  and  Minna — for  the 
reader  sees  that  Minna  is  Mrs.  Perry — Minna  and  her 
husband  and  that  big  Ralph  were,  happily,  at  the 
Hotel  De  Rosny  at  nine  o'clock.  And  there  she  met 
her  blushing  new  sister  ;  and  the  big,  red-faced,  red- 
whiskered  Fritz  stood  behind  the  door,  and  caught  his 
sister  and  almost  crushed  her  in  his  arms.  This  time 
he  surprised  her  as  much  as  she  had  surprised  him  at1 
Santa  Madre. 

As  they  sat,  after  dinner,  just  these  six,  after  going 
back  over  every  queer  experience  of  that  wild  life  of 
Santa  Madre,  and  of  San  Xavier,  and  Guaymas,  and 
memories  of  old  Father  Kino  and  the  rest,  Fergus 
said  :  "  I  dined  with  a  queer  set  yesterday.  It  was  at 
the  minister's — minister  of  finance,  you  know.  We 
had  this  young  Rothschild  and  Monte  Cristo's  son 


44  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

(who  is  a  quiet,  well-informed  fellow  ;  speaks  English 
as  well  as  you  do),  one  of  Van  Beest's  people,  the  pres 
ident  of  the  Bank  of  England,  and  the  president  of  the 
Bank  of  France — only  we  seven  and  the  three  ladies  of 
the  house.  It  was  charming  to  see  how  they  cut  the 
shop.  You  would  not  have  known  that  there  was  a 
silver  dollar  or  a  gold  napoleon  in  the  world.  On  the 
other  hand,  we  almost  pretended  that  the  minister  had 
dug  the  potatoes  with  his  own  hand  ;  that  Madame 
had  milked  the  cows  and  made  the  butter  ;  that  Roths 
child  had  been  a-fishing  and  brought  in  the  dorado  ; 
and  that  Mademoiselle  —  what  is  her  name  ?  —  had 
cooked  the  whole.  We  were  Arcadian  in  our  simplicity. 

"  But,  as  we  talked  after  dinner,  we  all  drew  up 
round  the  fire— just  as  if  we  had  been  in  England  or  at 
home — and  Mile.  Clara  drew  out  young  Monte  Cristo 
very  prettily.  You  see  there  were  not  too  many  of 
us  to  talk  across  the  fireplace  and  all  to  join.  You  will 
guess  that  the  general  talk  hushed,  by  one  of  the  spells 
that  fall  sometimes,  when  he  said  : 

1  Oh,  my  father's  love  for  the  dear  Abb6  passed 
the  love  of  angels  for  each  other. ' 

"  '  Why,'  cried  Ellen,  '  the  Abbe  was  the  man  in  the 
Chateau  d'lf  who  taught  Monte  Cristo  language  and 
told  him  where  the  diamonds  were/ 

'  Yes,'  said  Fergus.  '  We  were  all  still  as  mice  to 
hear  young  Monte  Cristo  say  :  "  Every  step  of  my 
father's  prosperity  afterward  followed  on  that  love  of 
his  for  the  dear  Abbe  and  of  the  Abb6  for  him.  My 
father  was  a  hard  hater  ;  but  when  he  died  he  said  to 
me  :  '  Remember  that  the  secret  of  success  is  love. ' 
That  is  my  motto,  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  and  that 
with  no  nonsense  in  his  tone.' 

"  The  girl  apprehended  his  mood,  saw  that  he  would 


PAUL   DECKER   AND    THEODORA    BOURN.  45 

prefer  to  be  silent,  and  turned  to  young  Rothschild. 
4  And  what  do  you  say,  M.  le  Baron  ? '  said  she. 
'  What  pretty  story  can  you  tell  us  to  teach  us  the 
secret  of  success  ?  ' 

'  My  story  is  very  easily  told, '  said  he.  '  It  is  the 
one  tradition  of  our  house.  Rothschild  Brothers  is 
Rothschild  Brothers  because  the  brothers  of  the  old 
firm  lived  like  brothers.  They  had  no  separate 
accounts.  Each  man  lived  for  the  whole.  When  you 
have  asked  all  your  questions,  Mademoiselle,  I  will  tell 
you  a  little  story  of  the  early  days. ' 

'  'And  you,  Mr.  Newland  ?  '  said  the  girl,  laughing, 
and  turning  to  the  president  of  the  Bank  of  England. 

'  Oh/  said  he,  '  you  must  ask  our  friend  here  if 
he  ever  failed  us  when  we  needed  him. '  And  then, 
with  his  English  pride,  he  added  :  '  Or  if  we  ever  failed 
him.'  He  turned  to  the  old  gray-haired  president  of 
the  Bank  of  France  ;  and  he  smiled  and  bowed  assent, 
well  pleased,  indeed,  with  all  the  dignity  of  the  old 
regime. 

"  The  thing  was  growing  serious.  These  gentlemen 
took  it  au  serieux,  indeed.  But  the  girl  did  not 
blench. 

'  And  you,  Mr.  Van  Beest — what  do  they  say  in 
Holland?' 

'  They  say,  Mademoiselle,  that  if  a  furlong  of  the 
dike  gives  way  half  a  state  is  deluged.  But  they  say 
that  when  every  yard  of  the  dike  is  riveted  in  with 
every  other  yard,  we  defy  ocean  itself.  Mademoiselle, 
it  is  the  infinite  of  the  spirit  against  the  infinite  of  the 
waves. ' 

'  The  girl  was  serious  now  ;  but  she  had  begun  her 
catechism,  and  she  would  finish  it.  So  she  turned  to 
me. 


46  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE 

'  M.  Menet,'  she  said,  '  what  commands  success  in 
America  ? ' 

"  I  pressed  my  seal  ring  so,  just  above  the  '  line  of 
life'  on  her  hand,  upon  the  plump  white  ball  below  her 
thumb,  and  I  said  : 

'  Mademoiselle,  if  you  could  see  what  I  have 
printed  on  your  hand,  you  would  read  the  word 
"TOGETHER."  '" 


"  Do  you  tell  me,"  said  the  excited  Mrs.  Frechette, 
almost  screaming  and  dropping  a  brushful  of  cobalt 
blue  full  on  the  high  light  of  a  snow-drift  in  her  draw 
ing,  "  do  you  tell  me  that  this  man  in  a  buffalo  coat, 
who  lifted  Miss  Bourn  so  easily,  is  the  great  bonanza 
man  ?" 

"  No  ;  the  great  bonanza  man  came  after  him.  He 
is  the  one  with  a  red  silk  handkerchief  round  his  throat. 
I  do  not  know  the  name  of  the  forward  man." 

But  at  this  moment  the  front  door  of  the  palace 
opened,  and  Hector  Van  Sandfoord  appeared,  fol 
lowed  by  Mr.  Menet  and  Mr.  Decker,  whom  he  intro 
duced  to  the  ladies. 

It  required  all  Mrs.  Frechette's  promptness  to  receive 
them  as  if  she  had  been  discussing  colors  or  politics 
or  religion  the  instant  before,  and  had  not  been  read 
ing  the  biography  of  one  of  them.  As  for  Mary  Van 
Sandfoord,  she  simply  bowed  as  the  gentlemen  were 
presented,  and  Theodora,  as  an  invalid,  might  be  per 
mitted  to  be  a  little  flushed.  Mrs.  Hackmatack,  who 
was  really  the  least  guilty  of  the  party,  hoped  nobody 
would  notice  her,  and,  in  truth,  no  one  did. 

"  Do  not  let  us  break  up  your  reading,"  said  Mr. 
Menet,  after  Caesar  had  placed  two  light  chairs  for 


PAUL   DECKER  AND    THEODORA    BOURN.          47 

them  in  the  passage-way.  And  he  actually  put  out 
his  hand  for  the  guilty  story,  which  was  still  lying  on 
Mary's  open  bag. 

But,  with  that  infinite  promptness  of  woman's  guilt, 
Mary  was  beforehand  with  him. 

"  No,"  she  said,  as  she  laid  back  the  paper  in  the 
bag,  and  drew  out  a  little  volume  of  H.  H.'s  essays. 
41  It  was  only  a  little  Thanksgiving  story  I  was  show 
ing  to  Mrs.  Frechette.  Do  you  rememer  Helen  Hunt's 
account  of  her  first  passage  through  the  mountains?" 

Guilty  Mary  Van  Sandfoord,  and  wise  as  the  serpent 
who  first  tempted  her  kind  ! 

Mr.  Menet  did  not  remember  ;  but  he  was  glad  if 
they  had  heart  to  talk  about  Thanksgiving.  Were  they 
not  afraid  that  they  should  lose  their  Christmas? 


CHAPTER   III. 

SNOW-BOUND— NAHUM   BARROW'S   REVENGE. 

AND  so  came  to  the  ladies  the  full  announcement  of 
what  had  been  clear  enough  to  the  men  long  before,  but 
what  had  not  been  formally  proclaimed  in  the  palace, 
in  the  confusion  of  the  loss  and  the  rescue.  With  this 
long  detention,  now  counting  seven  or  eight  hours, 
there  was  no  chance  whatever  of  reaching  Council 
Bluffs  at  four  o'clock  on  Christmas  eve,  or  the  after 
noon  of  Christmas  eve,  as  the  schedule  time  proposed. 
Lucky,  indeed,  if  they  were  at  Council  Bluffs  at  mid 
night. 

Still,  Mary  Van  Sandfoord  was  clear  that  they  could 
run  out  by  a  morning  train  to  Hastings,  and  that  the 
Corneaus  would  meet  them  at  the  station. 

Hopeful  Mary  ! 

As  for  Theodora  Bourn,  she  was  more  indifferent  to 
the  Corneaus. 

The  through  passengers  in  a  well-arranged  Pullman 
grow  to  a  feeling  of  possession  in  it,  akin  to  the  feeling 
of  a  passenger  on  a  well-arranged  White  Star  packet. 
One  is  more  at  home  with  Cassar  or  with  John,  the 
porter,  than  he  is  with  the  bumptious  or  the  ignorant 
waiter  at  the  Hag-daggery-dag  Hotel,  whom  he  never 
saw  before,  and  never  will  see  again.  The  Corneaus's 
house  was  not  the  Hag-daggery-dag  Hotel,  but  it  was  a 
new  place  for  poor  Theodora.  It  meant  one  more  set 
of  new  faces  to  be  seen,  new  names  to  be  learned,  and 


SNOW-BOUND— N AHUM  HARROW'S  REVENGE.     49 

the  girl  had  had — oh,  so  much  of  that  experience  in 
this  last  year,  that  she  shrank  from  it.  While  in  the 
palace,  she  knew  where  she  was,  and  could  call  it,  if 
she  chose,  her  home. 

At  this  moment,  too,  Mr.  Decker  at  her  side,  having 
made  every  inquiry  about  her  health,  and  having  been 
thanked  most  prettily  for  his  help,  was  boldly  and  skil 
fully  turning  the  subject  from  the  accident  and  rescue, 
as  if  it  were  the  most  insignificant  affair.  He  caught 
at  the  hint  which  the  word  "  Thanksgiving"  gave,  and 
made  some  absurd  story  of  the  effort  he,  with  some 
friends  he  had  visited  on  a  ranch,  had  made  for  a 
Thanksgiving  dinner.  The  story  was  nothing,  but  it 
was  enough  to  laugh  at,  and  drew  from  Theodora 
some  little  experience  in  housekeeping  on  the  actual 
shore  of  the  Pacific.  In  that  region  she  had  seen  more 
than  he — indeed,  he  said,  laughing,  that  he  was  only 
an  in-doors  miner — that  he  knew  his  pots  and  crucibles 
and  agents  and  re-agents  better  than  he  did  the  trees 
and  the  mountains.  "  A  laboratory,  alas,  is  much  the 
same  in  Arizona  as  in  Freiberg,  Miss  Bourn." 

'You  will  never  persuade  me  that  you  are  any 
carpet  knight,"  said  Theodora  frankly.  "At  least 
you  can  wear  snow-shoes." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  it  is  the  accomplishment  of  a 
gentleman  in  some  countries. 

"  At  the  finest  dinner-party  I  ever  saw  there  was  an 
English  officer  of  rank,  who  was  telling  us  most  curious 
things  about  Hudson's  Bay  and  the  northern  Rockies. 
He  said  he  had  crossed  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific 
at  one  time  and  another.  Some  man  asked  him  how 
he  went,  and  he  said  :  '  I  walked.' 

"  Really,  Miss  Bourn,  that  man  had  ivalked,  and, 
most  of  the  way,  on  snow-shoes.  And  I  have  seen 


50  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

ladies  walk  on  snow-shoes  too,  and  they  walked  very 
prettily  and  very  well." 

"  I  will  have  a  pair,"  said  Theodora,  "  before  I  go 
after  my  veil  again. 

"  Are  you  a  New  Englander  ?"  asked  he,  determined 
again  to  get  off  the  adventure  of  the  morning. 

"  My  mother  was.  My  father  was  from  the  West 
India  Islands.  But  we  always  kept  Thanksgiving,  as 
I  tell  you." 

"  I  am  a  regular  Down- Easter.  I  came  from  where 
they  jump  off.  We  have  a  capital  Thanksgiving  story 
of  the  Revolution  in  our  family  ;"  and  he  was  going  to 
open  on  the  story,  when  Theodora  said  : 

"  No,  Mr.  Decker,  if  there  is  a  story  to  tell,  it  is 
common  property."  And  turning  to  the  others  she 
said  :  "  Mr.  Decker  is  going  to  tell  us  all  a  Thanksgiv 
ing  story  of  the  Revolution." 

Now,  the  truth  was  that  Mr.  Decker  would  greatly 
have  preferred  to  talk  to  Miss  Theodora  alone.  But 
he  was  a  gentleman,  and  when  he  found  the  turn  things 
had  taken,  he  said  he  would  rather  not  try  to  tell  the 
story.  A  kinsman  of  his  had  written  it  out,  and,  as  it 
happened,  he  had  it  in  a  pocket  of  his  overcoat.  He 
produced  an  envelope  somewhat  thumbed,  took  from 
it  a  scrap  of  newspaper,  and  read  them  the  story  of 

NAHUM  BARROW'S  REVENGE. 

A  THANKSGIVING  TALE. 

NAHUM  BARROW  wason  his  way  north,  through 
Virginia,  with  private  despatches  from  General  Greene 
to  Washington,  at  the  headquarters  of  the  army.  He 
had  pressed  the  horse  he  rode  rather  faster  than  the 
result  justified  ;  and  when,  late  on  Wednesday  night, 
he  rode  into  the  home-inclosures  of  the  plantation, 


SNOW-BOUND— NAHUM  BARROW'S  REVENGE.    51 

of  which,  for  an  hour,  he  had  watched  the  smoke,  he 
was  glad  to  believe  that  so  generous  an  establishment 
would  have  a  professed  blacksmith  among  its  slaves,  for 
the  mare  had  been  going  on  three  shoes  all  the  after 
noon,  and,  for  the  last  hour,  one  of  them  had  dis 
appeared.  The  sun  had  fairly  set  by  the  time  Nahum 
and  the  mare  arrived  at  the  house  itself.  A  sort  of 
sedateness  hung  over  the  place,  which  Nahum  found  it 
hard  to  explain  to  himself  ;  nor  was  there  the  noisy 
and  eager  gathering  of  the  clans  which  he  was  used  to 
now  in  his  Virginian  experiences.  But  this  reticence 
was  explained,  after  he  had  knocked  at  the  door,  by 
the  appearance  of  the  host  on  whose  comfortable 
quarters  Nahum  had  billeted  himself  ;  for,  as  Nahum 
saw  in  a  moment,  this  was  one  of  the  Society  of 
Friends.  A  tall  man,  of  severe  but  yet  benevolent 
enough  face,  held  a  candle  above  his  head,-  to  see  what 
manner  of  man  it  was  who  knocked  so  freely. 

Nahum  asked  if  he  could  receive  a  night's  hospital 
ity,  which  was  readily  granted.  He  dismounted,  and 
asked  his  friend's  advice  about  the  mare.  A  lantern 
was  brought,  for  it  need  not  be  said  that  the  candle  had 
been  immediately  extinguished  by  the  wind.  The  ex 
amination  which  followed  showed  not  only  that  she 
had  but  two  shoes,  but,  which  Nahum  had  not  known, 
that  one  of  her  legs  was  bleeding. 

"  Got  into  a  hole  with  her  in  the  corduroy,  where 
the  wood-road  comes  in,"  said  Nahum.  "  It's  half  an 
hour  back  ;  but  the  old  critter  scrabbled  out  so  spry 
that  she  didn't  give  me  no  chance  to  get  off  and  see 
if  she'd  scraped  herself." 

"  I  wish  there  were  any  road-master,"  said  the 
other  ;  "  but  they  do  not  know  what  that  word  means. 
Nor  do  they  know  well  what  he  would  do  if  he  were 


52  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

here.  Did  thee  find  the  road  better  this  side  the 
creek?" 

"  Fust-rate,"  said  Nahum,  guessing  rightly  that  at 
the  creek  his  Quaker  friend's  plantation  began.  And 
then  he  followed  in  a  eulogy — true  enough,  but  per 
haps  a  little  suspicious — of  the  neatness  of  all  the 
arrangements  of  the  farm  around  him.  These  eulogies 
neither  deterred  nor  hastened  Reuben  Dyer,  as  he  took 
off  the  trooper's  saddle-bags  and  his  saddle  ;  as  he  led 
the  mare  to  water,  which  she  refused  ;  and  as,  with  such 
appliances  as  the  well-furnished  stable  afforded,  he 
washed  and  dressed  the  wounded  leg.  In  all  these 
offices  Nahum  attempted  to  do  his  full  share  ;  but  his 
host  construed  a  host's  duties  in  the  largest  sense. 
He  hardly  permitted  Nahum's  presence,  as  he  himself 
attended  to  the  mare,  and  even  rubbed  her  down  with 
his  own  hands.  Two  tall  negro  boys  stood  by,  admir 
ing  ;  but,  excepting  to  hold  the  lanterns  and  once  and 
again  to  do  an  errand,  they  left  the  mare's  business  in 
their  master's  hands. 

After  half  an  hour  of  such  careful  work,  it  was  clear 
enough  that  nothing  more  could  be  done  for  the  poor 
beast,  and  Nahum  and  his  host  returned  to  the  house. 

In  the  midst  of  the  decorous  reticence  of  the  house 
hold  and  an  occasional  formal  statement  which  indi 
cated  a  theoretical  dislike  of  the  profession  of  arms,  the 
trooper  soon  saw  that  his  presence  was  not  disagreeable. 
He  was  a  little  tempted  to  play  with  the  professed 
pacific  habit  of  the  household,  to  affect  that  there  was 
no  war,  and  to  hang  up  his  sword  on  the  wooden  pin 
in  the  wall,  as  he  might  hang  up  a  riding-whip.  If 
they  did  not  want  to  know  where  Greene  had  come  to, 
why  should  he  tell  them  ?  If  they  were  willing  to  take 


SNO  IV-BO  UND  ~  ATA  HUAf .  BA  RRO  W '  S  RE  VENGE.     5  3 

the  chances  of  Cornwallis's  raiding  through  their  farms, 
and  Tarleton's  driving  off  their  horses,  and  the  swift 
commissariat  of  both  at  work  in  killing  their  cattle, 
why  should  Nahum  Barrow  care  ?  He  could  talk  about 
Virginia  fences,  as  contrasted  with  stone  walls  ;  or  he 
could  discuss  the  points  of  a  Durham  bull  ;  he  could 
give  an  opinion  as  to  the  price  of  tobacco  ;  nay,  if  need 
were,  he  could  hold  his  tongue.  Quakers  can  be  reti 
cent  when  there  is  need  ;  but  a  Connecticut  boy  of 
twenty-three,  bred  under  the  traditions  of  the  grumpy 
silence  of  Uncas  and  his  Pequots,  can  be  as  mum  as 
the  best  of  them,  if  he  feel  necessity. 

But  such  fell  resolutions  of  telling  no  war  stories 
melted  away  beneath  the  genial  kindness  of  the 
motherly  head  of  the  household  ;  beneath  the  modest 
smiles  of  a  certain  pretty  Martha,  who  gave  her  per 
sonal  attention  to  the  waffles  which  crowned  the  feast 
which  awaited  Nahum  ;  and  beneath  the  rapturous 
admiration  of  Thomas  and  Elnathan,  two  fine  boys, 
who  could  scarcely  keep  their  well-bred  hands  off  the 
trooper's  haversack,  and  occasionally  retired  into  the 
hall,  to  worship  the  sabre  which  hung  there,  with  such 
admiring  glances  as  the  Ashantee  fanatic  is  supposed  to 
bestow  upon  his  fetish.  These  traits  of  consideration 
disarmed  Nahum,  and  as  the  generous  Bohea  entered 
into  the  machinery  of  his  system  and  quickened  his 
life  ;  as  his  hunger  appeased  itself  after  one  and 
another  charge  upon  the  "  chicken  fixings"  which  had 
been  placed  before  him  ;  when,  with  a  fresh  fork  and 
knife  he  advanced  to  deal  with  the  waffles,  in  their 
turn,  he  opened  freely,  as  a  lonely  soldier  should,  upon 
the  war  and  its  history  and  its  future.  He  fought 
Monmouth  over  again  ;  he  detailed  with  humor  even 
the  critical  passages  in  his  own  experiences  at  Hotham's 


54  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

Neck  ;  he  explained,  as  far  as  a  prudent  subaltern 
might,  the  resources  on  which  Greene  must  rely  ;  and 
he  digressed,  with  what  he  thought  excusable  exag 
geration,  upon  the  matchless  resources  of  Cornwallis 
and  Tarleton.  Of  these  last  he  knew,  in  truth,  as  little 
as  this  reader,  and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal  ;  but, 
with  the  wisdom  of  a  serpent,  Nahum  said  to  himself : 
"  Ef  these  people  aren't  a  little  skeered,  they  won't 
give  the  General  any  supplies.  Little  enough  he  gets 
from  them  now."  Supposing,  incorrectly,  that  his 
laudable  end  would  justify  his  unworthy  means,  the 
soldier,  therefore,  dashed  into  statements  as  to  Corn 
wallis  and  his  forces  for  which  he  was  largely  indebted 
to  his  imagination. 

The  evening  passed  pleasantly  in  this  exciting  talk, 
and  it  was  an  hour  later  than  usual  when  all  parties 
went  to  bed. 


The  next  morning  brought  another  sight  at  Reuben 
Dyer's  plantation.  The  wind  had  come  round  to  the 
northwest,  and  at  the  earliest  dawn  there  was  already 
half  an  inch  of  snow  on  the  fields,  and  the  trees  were 
taking  on  the  most  grotesque  forms.  At  breakfast-time 
snow  was  still  falling.  Nor  had  the  diagnosis  of  the 
mare's  leg  proved  favorable.  Reuben  Dyer  had 
expressed  his  readiness  to  shoe  her,  and  the  trooper 
had  yielded  to  Reuben's  superior  knowledge  of 
farriery  ;  but  the  poor  creature  limped  so  sadly  when 
she  was  led  to  water  that  it  seemed  cruel  to  take  her 
out  on  roads  so  far  snow-covered  that  she  could  not 
see  where  her  feet  would  fall. 

'  If  thy  errand  requires  haste,"  said  Reuben,  "  thee 
shall  be  made  welcome  to  either  of  my  horses  ;  but 
they  are  more  fit  for  draught  than  for  fast  riding.  My 


SNOW-BOUND— N AHUM  HARROW'S  REVENGE.     55 

pacer,  of  which  the  boy  Elnathan  spake  to  thee,  is,  as 
he  told  thee,  at  Alexandria." 

Nahum  had  himself  taken  a  surreptitious  look  at  the 
horses,  and,  while  he  respected  their  good  points,  had 
concluded  that  he  could  make  better  time  in  forty- 
eight  hours  on  his  own  feet  than  on  theirs.  He 
reserved  his  decision,  however,  till  a  certain  Mike 
Slaughter,  who  was  the  authority  on  the  subject  of 
horses'  ailments,  could  be  consulted.  Doctor  or  quack, 
he  should  determine  whether  the  mare  could  or  could 
not  go  on.  As  the  day  passed,  Nahum  determined 
that  he  should  make  the  best  speed  by  accepting  the 
Quaker's  hospitable  invitation,  and  spending  another 
night.  When  he  announced  this  decision,  however, 
he  received  a  severe  wound  from  his  hostess. 

"  Mr.  Dyer  wants  me  to  stay  the  night,"  said 
Nahum  cheerily  to  her,  as  he  entered  her  kitchen  ; 
"  'n'  I  guess  I  will.  It's  Thanksgivin'  day,  'n'  I  don't 
want  to  travel,  ef  the  country's  service  don't  require  it. 
We'll  keep  our  Thanksgivin'  together,  Miss  Marthy. " 

"  Keep  what  ?"  said  the  pretty  girl,  startled. 

"  Keep  Thanksgivin'  !"  said  the  astonished  Nahum, 
with  his  eyes  opened.  "  Ain't  your  meetin*  open?" 

'There  are  so  few  Friends  in  the  county,"  said 
Prudence  Dyer,  Martha's  mother,  who  stepped  to  the 
fore,  "  that  we  have  no  regular  meeting  on  Fifth  Day, 
nor,  indeed,  on  First  Day,  unless  some  Friend  pass 
in  travel." 

"But  you  keep  Thanksgivin'  day?"  persisted  the 
trooper. 

The  woman  stared  as  her  daughter  had  done.  It 
soon  appeared  that  she  had  no  more  idea  than  Martha 
had  of  what  he  was  talking  about.  Nahum  drew  from 
his  inner  pocket  a  well-worn  copy  of  the  Connecticut 


56  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Courant.  He  pointed  to  them  Governor  Trumbull's 
1 ''  Proclamation  for  a  day  of  Public  Thanksgiving  and 
Praise."  "  Ef  I  was  down  to  Tolland,"  said  he. 
t:  I  should  be  jest  now  goin'  to  meetin'.  'N'  the  girls, 
Miss  Marthy,  would  be  steppin'  round  spry,  with  the 
chickens  and  the  old  gobbler,  I  tell  you.  They's  only 
one  thing  missin'  there  to-day  ;  you  be  sure  of  that." 
And  to  Martha's  inquiring  look,  with  a  broken  voice, 
not  wholly  soldierly,  he  said  :  "  The  old  man  would 
have  a  better  time  ef  I  looked  in  on  um  jest  as  they 
was  fittin'  off  f  meet'n'." 

The  women  stopped  in  their  work  and  listened  with 
as  much  curiosity  as  they  would  have  done  had  Lady 
Mary  Wortley  Montagu  described  to  them  a  dance  of 
wild  dervishes  ;  but  Nahum's  rather  voluble  narrative 
was  broken  by  Reuben  Dyer's  entrance.  He  heard  the 
young  man  to  the  end  of  his  eager  home  memories, 
and  then  said  : 

'We  have  neither  time  nor  disposition  for  such 
fooleries,  young  man.  If  the  Almighty  God  had  wished 
these  observances,  he  would  not  leave  the  announce 
ment  to  the  civil  magistrates.  He  hath  simpler 
methods  of  proclaiming  His  will  than  the  newspapers. 
Prudence,"  he  continued,  "  we  will  keep  thy  goose  for 
another  day's  dinner.  There  is  enough  left  of  the 
hominy  and  pork  for  to-day.  Young  man,"  he  add 
ed,  with  a  certain  asperity  which  Nahum  had  not 
observed  before,  "  if  thee  wishes  to  see  Michael 
Slaughter,  he  is  coming  down  the  hill." 

Nahum  understood  very,  well  that  he  was  in  no  posi 
tion  to  discuss  matters  with  his  host  ;  but  one  conse 
quence  of  this  little  passage  at  arms  was  that  he  pro 
nounced  the  mare's  leg  good  for  ten  miles,  if  he  rode 
her  with  care,  and  left  his  hosts  with  a  cordial  enough 


SNOW-BOUXD—XATTUM  BARROWS  REVENGE.     57 

good-by,  while  he   had   two   hours  of  daylight  before 
him. 

It  was  more  than  a  year  before  Nahum  Barrow  met 
his  Friendly  hosts  again.  I  will  not  say  that  he  did  not 
sometimes  think  of  that  pretty  and  deft  little  Martha  ; 
I  will  not  say  that  the  quiet  little  Quakeress  did  not 
sometimes  think  of  him  ;  but  the  reader  of  this  reminis 
cence  of  a  hundred  years  ago  must  not  build  too  much 
on  those  expressions  of  mine.  Spring  and  summer 
passed.  Cornwallis  came  up  as  near  as  Hanover  Court  - 
House,  and  Reuben  Dyer  recognized  that  fact  so  far 
that  he  had  four  cows  driven  into  a  fastness  in  the  wilder 
ness,  and  that,  at  dead  of  night,  he  buried  with  his  own 
hands  a  box  which  held  forty  or  fifty  joes  and  a  hundred 
Spanish  dollars  and  six  silver  teaspoons.  Then  Corn 
wallis  went  back  to  James  River,  and  the  spoons  were 
dug  up  again  and  the  cattle  came  back  from  the 
swamp.  The  crops  were  all  well  in  at  last,  the  harder 
duties  of  harvest  were  finished,  and  on  a  lovely  after 
noon,  at  the  very  end  of  St.  Martin's  summer,  our 
pretty  Martha  and  her  mother,  Prudence  (scarcely  less 
charming),  were  standing  on  the  broad  step,  watching 
the  glories  of  the  west,  as  the  sun  sank  rapidly  behind 
the  Blue  Ridge.  Reuben  would  not  have  confessed 
that  the  glory  of  sunset  had  lured  him  from  his  work. 
All  the  same  it  had.  The  women  would  have  con 
fessed  this  for  themselves.  Nor  would  it  have  hurt 
Reuben  to  confess  it. 

Of  a  sudden  the  well-remembered  mare  clattered  up 
the  roadway  at  a  hard  gallop,  guided  by  the  well- 
remembered  Nahum.  My  pretty  Martha  fairly 
blushed,  so  provoked  was  she  because  she  was  thinking 
of  him  before  he  came,  and  so  she  looked  prettier  than 
ever.  The  handsome  trooper  gave  his  hand  cordially 


58  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

to  each  of  them,  and  then  was  off  the  saddle  in  a 
moment.  He  had  come,  he  said,  with  the  compliments 
of  Major  Rice  and  Colonel  Huntington,  of  the  Fourth 
Connecticut  Brigade,  who  were  about  an  hour  behind 
him.  If  it  were  not  disagreeable  to  Friend  Dyer,  they 
would  be  pleased  if  the  brigade  might  bivouac  for  the 
night  upon  the  pasture  which  Nahum  remembered  by 
the  corn-barn.  Reuben  Dyer  might  be  sure  that  the 
men  would  be  careful,  and  would  ask  for  nothing  but 
water,  and  would  burn  nothing  but  brush. 

Joy  leaped  to  Martha's  eyes.  At  last  she  should  see 
an  army,  or  a  part  of  an  army — she  who  had  never  seen 
any  soldier  but  Nahum  Barrow.  Indeed,  a  calm  cheer 
fulness  stole  over  the  face  of  Prudence  ;  and  Reuben 
himself  showed  all  the  cordiality  of  a  Virginian  and  all 
the  hospitality  of  a  Friend,  as  he  returned  his  manly 
answer  : 

"  Say  to  thy  friends  that  we  are  glad  they  have 
chosen  this  road." 

Nahum  did  not  whisper  that  it  was  he  who  had 
chosen  the  road  and  suggested  it  to  Colonel  Hunting- 
ton. 

"  If  thee  will  sleep  thyself  in  the  room  thee  had  last 
year,  thee  can  bring  as  many  of  thy  friends  as  thee 
chooses.  In  the  rest  of  the  house  Prudence  and 
Martha  made  beds  for  the  twenty-three  Friends  when 
the  yearly  meeting  was  last  here,  and  they  can  do  the 
same  now.  Then  there  is  the  stable,  and  the  old  stable 
that  thee  has  not  seen,  and  the  corn-bins,  and  William 
Waylen's  tobacco-shed.  As  for  water,  the  boys  shall 
draw  some  casks  for  thy  friends,  so  that  they  need  not 
go  to  the  creek  ;  but  as  thee  says  the  men  are  prudent, 
I  will  bid  Jotham  haul  a  cask  of  cider  also  to  the  past 
ure  before  they  come.  The  night  may  be  cold." 


SNOW-BOUND- NAHUM  BARROW'S  REVENGE.     59 

Nahum  was  well  pleased  that  he  had  not  miscalcu 
lated  his  friends'  hospitality.  He  thanked  them  cor 
dially,  said  he  should  soon  return,  and  rode  back  with 
his  tidings.  Martha  and  Prudence,  with  the  help  of 
the  boy,  Archippus,  sprang  to  their  task,  if  one  may 
use  a  healthy  piece  of  the  vernacular.  Reuben  called 
Jotham,  and  the  two  rolled  a  generous  cask  of  cider 
upon  a  drag,  and  placed  it  upon  skids  convenient,  just 
where  they  took  down  two  lengths  of  Virginia  fence 
for  the  entrance  of  the  soldiers  into  their  camp-ground. 
They  were  placing  two  large  casks  of  water  on  the 
skids  when  a  large  party  of  horsemen,  well  mounted, 
rode  up  to  the  house,  guided  by  Nahum.  These  were 
Colonel  Huntington,  with  the  gentlemen  of  his  personal 
staff,  and,  indeed,  almost  all  the  staff-officers  of  the 
brigade.  The  more  studied  courtesies  of  the  camp 
mingled  charmingly  with  the  inborn  courtesy  of 
Quaker  life.  These  polished  gentlemen  showed  their 
hosts  in  a  hundred  ways  how  grateful  they  were  for  a 
reception  so  cordial.  On  the  other  hand,  without  say 
ing  so  in  words,  Reuben's  family  found  as  many  ways 
to  show  that,  in  spite  of  their  disapproval  of  war,  they 
were  glad  Cornwallis  was  a  prisoner  and  thankful  to 
the  gallant  men  who  had  arrested  his  career. 

Early  the  next  morning,  as  the  pearly  gray  of  the 
sky  showed  that  a  perfect  day  was  before  them,  Colonel 
Huntington  waited  on  Reuben  Dyer,  whom  he  found 
at  his  wood-pile,  directing  the  loading  of  a  cord  or 
two  of  .wood,  which  he  was  sending  off  to  the  regi 
mental  camp-fire. 

'  The  men  may  not  have  the  tools  or  the  time  to  cut 
it,"  he  said  to  the  colonel. 

The  colonel  thanked    him,  and  then    said  that   he 


60  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

and  all  his  officers  were  most  grateful  for  these  cour 
tesies.  Would  it  be  presuming  too  much  if  they 
availed  themselves  of  such  perfect  weather  and  of  the 
neighborhood  of  such  friends,  and  permitted  the  men 
to  rest  themselves  all  day  ?  Their  march  had  been 
rapid  till  now,  and  he  did  not  care  to  have  the  men 
spend  more  time  than  the  Sabbath  itself  at  Alex 
andria. 

'••  Thee  can  easily  reach  Alexandria  by  Seventh-Day 
evening,  if  thee  does  not  march  till  to-morrow  morn 
ing,"  said  the  Quaker,  promptly,  almost  eagerly. 
"  Let  the  poor  fellows  stay  ;  let  them  stay.  I  am 
only  sorry  we  have  not  barns  as  big  as  thee  will  find  in 
Lancaster,"  he  said,  remembering  fondly  the  farming 
of  his  boyhood. 

"One  thing  more,"  said  the  courtly  colonel,  "  for 
you  have  learned  before  this  in  life  that  beggars  are 
apt  to  be  choosers.  Would  thy  friend,  Waylen,  in 
whose  tobacco-shed  the  boys  of  my  own  regiment  have 
been  snoring  so  loudly — would  he  object  to  have  some 
of  them  hold  a  meeting  there  this  morning  ?  One  of 
the  officers  is  moved  to  address  the  men  on  the 
manifold  exhibitions  of  Divine  goodness  in  this  sur 
render  ;  but  he  will  rather  speak  to  them  in  the  woods 
than  offend  friends  so  kindly." 

'  William  Waylen  object  to  a  fifth-day  meeting,  if  I 
call  one  ?"  This  was  the  first  exclamation  of  Reuben  ; 
but  in  an  instant  he  controlled  the  rising  flame.  In 
language  more  decorous  he  said  that  he  knew  his 
neighbor,  and  all  his  family  would  wish  to  be  present, 
and  that  he  should  send  one  of  his  negro  boys  to  the 
neighboring  houses  and  notify  all. 

"  Ask  that  the  poor  blacks  may  come  themselves, 
also,"  said  Colonel  Huntington,  and  there  was  enough 


SNOW-BOUND— N AHUM  BARROW'S  REVENGE.     61 

in  his  intonation  to  show  Reuben  Dyer  that  he  and  his 
guest  were  at  one  in  their  notions  about  these  people. 
Thus  simply  was  it  settled  that  the  old  tobacco-shed, 
which  for  years  had  not  been  used  for  the  purpose  it 
was  built  for,  should  be  this  day  a  crowded  temple. 
At  ten  o'clock,  to  the  delight,  scarcely  disguised,  of 
Martha,  the  different  regiments,  in  their  best  holiday 
trim,  marched  by  the  house  in  order.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  she  heard  a  band  of  military  music. 
Governor  Hazen's  brigade  band,  in  the  intimacies  of  the 
weeks  since  Yorktown,  had  picked  up  from  a  Hessian 
band-master  the  music  from  the  march  in  "Judas 
Maccabseus,"  and  for  the  first  time  this  girl  knew  the 
wonders  of  Handel.  Neither  she  nor  her  mother  knew 
what  was  meant  by  the  elegance  of  a  marching  salute, 
as  the  regiments  passed  the  door  ;  but  it  seemed  to 
Martha  hardly  the  same  world  as  that  which  had  moved 
by  so  quietly  only  the  day  before.  In  the  chaise, 
which  had  been  made  ready  by  Jotham,  she  and  her 
mother  followed  to  the  improvised  meeting-house,  and 
there  they  took  the  places  reserved  for  them  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  assembly.  She  saw  that  there  was 
more  than  one  elder  on  the  bench  which  fronted  them. 
She  heard  a  thousand  voices  join  in  singing  : 

"  Be  Thou,  O  God,  exalted  high  !" 

Her  whole  heart  was  with  the  eager,  pale  young  man 
who,  in  prayer,  praised  God  for  such  marvellous  bless 
ings  as  seemed  opening  on  the  country.  The  most 
glowing  language  of  the  Book  of  Revelation  and  of 
the  Psalms  of  David  was  none  too  high  for  his  thank 
fulness  nor  for  hers,  and  she  felt  that  the  "  goodness, 
new  every  morning  and  fresh  every  evening,"  was  the 
only  adequate  explanation  of  the  blessedness  which  had 


62  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

come  to  hearts  which  for  years  had  been  bowed  down 
in  anxiety,  or  to  homes  like  hers,  now  just  set  free 
from  the  fear  of  sword  and  fire. 

A  taller  and  older  man  then  rose  to  address  them  ; 
not  at  great  length  (the  army  had  cured  them  all  of 
long  speeches),  but  with  a  crisp,  sharp,  dry  manner  of 
speech,  yet  quite  unlike  the  preachers  whom  Martha 
had  heard  at  quarterly  meetings.  "  He  hath  made  of 
a  city  a  heap  ;  of  a  defenced  city  a  ruin  ;  a  palace  of 
strangers  to  be  no  city.  It  shall  never  be  built."  He 
began  with  these  words,  sharply  emphasized.  He  did 
not  condescend  to  say  where  they  came  from  ;  but 
Martha  could  see  that  Colonel  Huntington,  in  a  Bible 
he  held  in  his  hand,  turned  quickly  to  the  place  and 
smiled  his  approval  of  the  selection.  With  free  disre 
gard  of  Jerusalem,  or  of  Samaria,  or  of  any  Eastern 
city,  the  speaker  led  his  hearers  at  once  to  that  fenced 
city  of  Yorktown  which  the  Lord  had  just  destroyed  by 
their  enginery.  The  death  of  Scammell,  whom  these 
boys  adored  ;  the  storm  of  the  two  redoubts  ;  the  wav 
ing  of  the  handkerchief  of  surrender  ;  the  stately  march 
of  the  final  ceremony — all  were  described  in  language 
half  of  New  England  and  half  from  the  Hebrew  texts. 
The  men  listened  eagerly,  with  their  mouths  half  open 
and  with  eyes  fixed  upon  him.  When  he  closed,  cry 
ing  out  in  a  rapturous  outburst,  "  To  Thee,  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  in  whose  might  kings  reign  and  nations  are 
born,  to  Thee  and  to  thy  great  name  be  all  the  glory 
and  all  the  praise,"  Colonel  Huntington  and  more 
than  one  of  those  around  him  broke  out,  unconsciously 
even,  into  ejaculations  of  "  Amen." 

As  the  meeting  broke  up,  a  tall  Virginian,  standing 
on  a  large  stump  in  the  roadway,  invited  all  who  were 
present  to  join  in  a  barbecue,  which  he  said  had  been 


SNOW-BOUND— NAHUM  BORROWS  REVENGE.     63 

suddenly  arranged  in  the  edge  of  a  grove  close  at 
hand.  '  Three  good  porkers,"  said  he,  "  and  as  hand 
some  a  steer  as  there  is  in  Fairfax  County  has  been 
roasting  there  since  daybreak.  Nothing's  too  good 
for  them  as  scotched  my  Lord  Cornwallis. " 

'  The  ranks  of  Tuscany"  did  not  forget  to  cheer 
when  this  announcement  was  made.  Colonel  Hunt- 
ington  nodded  to  the  gentlemen  of  his  staff,  and  they 
ran  to  the  line  officers  to  give  the  general's  permis 
sion. 

Reuben  was  fearful,  when  he  saw  this,  that  his  plans 
might  be  broken  in  upon,  and  said  hastily  :  .  > 

"  No,  no,  friend  Huntington,  this  is  not  forthee  and 
for  these"  (gentlemen,  he  would  have  said,  but  that  the 
memories  of  George  Fox  forbade)  "  for  these  friends. 
If  thee  will  dine  at  our  house,  thee  will  see  that  we 
have  made  ready.  Friend  Meadows  will  be  there  and 
Elizabeth  Meadows,  Friend  Wingfield  also,  and  Mary 
Wingfield,  and  some  other  Friends." 

It  was  clear  enough  that  the  barbecue  was  for  the 
men,  and  some  other  provision  for  the  staff. 

And  so  it  shortly  proved.  In  the  absence  of  the 
worshippers  at  the  tobacco-shed,  long  tables  had  been 
set  in  the  hall,  in  the  kitchen,  in  the  sitting-room, 
and  in  the  "  best  room"  of  Friend  Dyer's  house. 
They  ran  transversely  from  corner  to  corner,  so  as  to 
give  the  utmost  possible  room  for  those  who  served  the 
feast.  Indeed,  there  was  no  room  in  the  house  where 
the  brilliant  staff  and  the  line  officers  could  assemble, 
and  they  stood  chatting  in  front,  under  the  great  locust 
trees,  until  notice  was  given  that  the  party  in  the 
kitchen  had  brought  across  the  viands  with  which  the 
feast  was  to  begin.  Then  Colonel  Huntington  was 
led  to  the  head  of  one  table,  Major  Fish  to  the  head 


64  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

of  another,  while  Reuben  himself  sat  at  the  head  of 
a  third.  For  a  minute  there  was  a  dead-hush  silence, 
as  silently  each  guest  asked  a  blessing,  and  then  the 
gay  company  fell  to.  Prudence,  and  Martha,  and  Eliz 
abeth,  and  Mary,  and  other  Friends  of  that  sex  who 
cannot  be  named  ;  Jotham,  and  Archippus,  and  I  know 
not  how  many  grinning  boys  of  their  color,  with  Phebe, 
and  Dorcas,  and  other  girls  as  black  as  they,  passed 
from  the  kitchen  to  the  tables  and  back  again,  and 
with  one  and  another  dainty,  in  which  Virginian  cookery 
and  Quaker  science  were  combined,  supplied  the  festi 
val.  Haunches  of  venison,  and  great  turkeys  from  the 
forest,  and  ducks  and  chickens  and  geese  from  the 
poultry-yard,  with  every  curious  variety  of  pastry  and 
of  preserve,  had  been  brought  in  from  ten  miles  around. 
Nahum  Barrow  found  his  place  near  the  foot  of  his 
colonel's  table.  It  had  been  intimated  to  him  that  all 
parties  would  be  more  at  ease  if  he  remained  at  the 
homestead  and  did  not  join  in  the  barbecue,  and 
Nahum  had  his  own  reasons  for  complying. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  customs  of  that  age 
were  not  the  customs  of  this.  It  soon  proved  that  the 
additional  casks  of  cider,  which  had  been  sent  to  the 
barbecue,  had  not  exhausted  Reuben  Dyer's  store  ; 
and  Major  Fish  and  Colonel  Antill,  claiming  the  priv 
ileges  of  billeted  officers,  had  sent  their  orderlies  to 
the  wagon-master,  with  orders  for  some  Port  and 
Madeira,  which  had  been  discovered  in  Cornwallis's 
pillage  collected  at  Yorktown.  But  the  occasion 
needed  no  wine  for  its  merriment.  Home  was  before 
them  all.  Peace  had  come  after  war.  Here  were  men 
who  were  to  see  children  who  had  been  born  since 
they  left  their  firesides.  All  were  men  who  had  done 
the  thing  they  resolved  to  do.  The  skies  were  bright, 


SNOW-BOUND— NAHUM  ^BARROW'S  REVENGE.     65 

" 

the  future  was  fair.     They  were  happy  and  they  meant 
to  be. 

It  was  taken  for  granted  that  Reuben's  prejudices 
would  yield  so  far  that  they  might  drink  a  few  toasts, 
and,  with  exuberant  enthusiasm,  "  the  Honorable  Con 
gress,"  ''His  Excellency  the  Commander-in  Chief," 
"  His  Most  Christian  Majesty  King  Louis,"  were 
toasted  in  their  turn.  It  was  after  the  clapping  of 
hands  subsided,  which  followed  a  little  speech  made 
by  Lieutenant  de  M6nonville,  in  very  funny,  broken 
English,  by  way  of  acknowledging  the  compliment  to 
his  sovereign,  that  Colonel  Huntington  called  to 
Nahum,  at  the  other  end  of  the  table.  Through  the 
large  doors  into  the  generous  hall,  the  party  at  the 
hall  table  could  see  and  hear  the  whole. 

"  Sergeant  Barrow,"  said  he,  "  was  there  nothing  in 
the  Courant  I  handed  you  which  our  friends  would  be 
glad  to  hear?" 

They  all  knew  that  the  colonel  had  received  a  des 
patch  from  the  North  while  they  were  in  the  tobacco- 
shed. 

Then  Nahum  rose  to  his  full  height.  He  was  in  his 
best  spirits.  He  held  a  Connecticut  Courant  so  folded 
that  he  could  read  one  column  with  ease. 

"BY   HIS   EXCELLENCY  JONATHAN   TRUMBULL. 

A   PROCLAMATION 

for  a  Day  of  Public  Thanksgiving  and  Praise ! 

"Whereas: 

"  It  hath  pleased  the  Most  High  God,  blessed  forever,  the 
Supreme  and  Righteous  Ruler  of  the  World,  to  answer  the 
Prayers  of  His  People  in  the  Thirteen  United  States  of  America 
by  Displays  of  His  Great  Might  and  Unerring  Providence,  such  as 
no  People  have  deserved,  and  such  as  make  Nations  and  Sover- 


66  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

eigns  bow  their  Heads  in  Wonder  ;  and,  Whereas,  He  hath  led 
our  Leaders,  and  taught  our  Counsellors,  and  given  Courage  to 
our  Soldiers,  and  Victory  to  our  Armies  ;  and,  Whereas,  He 
hath  watched  over  the  gallant  Generals  who  have  led  to  us  from 
another  Continent  the  loyal  Armies  of  our  August  Ally  ; 

"And,    Whereas:  He  hath  been  graciously  pleased,   in  His 
Constant  Mercy,  to  cause  an  Abundance  of  the  Fruits  of  the 
Earth  to  be  produced  for  our  Sustenance,  to  give  Comfort  to  our 
People,  and  to  supply  our  Armies  ;  and, 
"Finally  and  Conspicuously  : 

"Whereas:  He  hath  been  pleased  to  confound  the  Counsels 
of  the  Foes  of  Freedom,  and  to  direct  that  a  British  general  of 
the  first  Rank,  with  his  whole  Army,  should  be  captured  by  the 
Allied  Forces  under  the  direction  of  the  American  Commander- 
in-Chief, 

"  I  have,  therefore,  thought  fit,  by  and  with  the  Advice  of  the 
Council,  to  appoint,  and  do  hereby  appoint,  Thursday,  the  elev 
enth  day  of  December  next,  to  be  observed  as  a  day  of  Thanks 
giving  and  Praise,  throughout  the  State  of  Connecticut,  hereby 
exhorting  our  Ministers  and  People  of  all  Denominations  of 
Christians  to  observe  the  same." 

Nahum  could  hardly  finish  this  sentence  audibly  ; 
for  every  Connecticut  man,  nay,  every  New  England 
man  around  him  was  clapping  and  cheering,  and  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  but  few  of  them  listened  very  atten 
tively  to  the  directions  which  followed  in  the  long 
proclamation  as  to  the  subjects  of  prayer  and  praise. 

But  there  was  silence  enough  at  the  end  for  all  to 
hear  again,  when  Nahum,  with  his  best  oratory,  made 
the  final  proclamation  : 

"  And  all  Servile  Work  is  forbidden  on  said  Day. 

"Given  under  my  hand,  in  the  Council  Chamber  in  New 
Haven,  this  3oth  day  of  November,  in  the  sixth  year  of  the  Inde 
pendence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  Annoque  Domini, 
1781.  JONTH.  TRUMBULL. 

11  God  Save  the  United  States  of  America  /" 


SNOW-BOUND— N AHUM  BARROW'S  REVENGE.     67 

The  whole  party  in  all  the  rooms  had  now  gathered 
together,  so  that  they  could  hear.  With  the  closing 
words  all  cheered,  three  times  three,  as  Huntington  led 
the  cheering  ;  and  then  forty  or  fifty  voices  shouted 
again  :  "  God  save  the  United  States  of  America  !" 

The  pretty  Martha  and  her  charming  mother  stood 
behind  Reuben,  their  faces  wet  with  tears,  which  flowed 
in  the  excitement.  The  staid  Reuben  himself  was 
standing  on  his  chair,  cheering  with  the  most  loyal. 
As  he  found  his  feet  and  the  floor  again,  Major  Rice 
turned  to  him,  and  said  : 

'  This  is  what  we  call  a  real  Yankee  Thanksgiving. 
How  can  we  thank  you  enough  for  giving  us  Thanks 
giving  Day  in  Virginia?" 

And  as  Reuben  took  the  broad  hand  of  the  major 
and  grasped  it,  Nahum  Barrow  felt  that 

HE   HAD   HIS   REVENGE. 

Paul  Decker  read  with  spirit,  and  there  was  quite 
enough  of  the  New  England  blood  in  the  veins  of  his 
hearers  to  make  them  heartily  applaud  Nahum's 
success  in  compelling  the  Virginia  Quaker  to  give  a 
Thanksgiving  feast  in  spite  of  itself. 

It  added  an  element  of  "human  pathos,"  that  he 
declared  that  Nahum  was  his  own  great-grandfather, 
or  that  such  was  the  family  tradition. 

But  reading  had  already  become  difficult.  For,  to 
the  joy  of  all,  the  train  was  again  in  motion. 

The  telegraphic  line  eastward  had  found  its  tongue, 
aad  the  liberated  train  was  again  on  its  way. 

So  soon  as  the  reading  was  over,  there  was  a  great 
comparing  of  watches  and  time-tables  and  study  of  the 
probable  or  possible  time  of  arrival  at  Council  Bluffs. 

True  Americans  as  they  all  were,  every  one  took  it 


68  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

for  granted  that  all  difficulty  was  now  overcome,  that 
the  engine-man  would  even  be  able  to  make  up  some 
of  the  "lost"  time,  and  that,  in  short,  from  this 
moment  all  would  be  well. 

Theodora  declared  that  she  was  not  going  to  travel 
in  bed  any  longer.  Cassar  was  called,  and  her  great 
couch  was  beaten  into  two  sofas.  She  repaired  to  the 
dressing-room,  and  reappeared  carefully  refitted,  and 
the  party  went  on  no  longer  as  a  unit,  but  in  groups 
of  twos  and  twos. 

Fergus  Menet  talked  with  the  bride  ;  Hector  Van 
Sandfoord  kept  Mrs.  Hackmatack  screaming  with 
laughter  ;  George  Hackmatack  discussed  the  lines  of 
the  spectrum  and  the  compensations  of  color  with 
Mrs.  Fr6chette. 

And  so  it  happened,  as  men  say,  that  Paul  Decker 
and  Theodora  Bourn  sat  together  and  talked  together. 

"  Happened  !" 

As  if  those  three  skilful  and  determined  married 
women,  as  by  foreordination  absolute,  had  not  by  any 
fineness  of  intrigue  made  it  physically  impossible  that 
any  other  combination  should  be  possible. 

And  yet,  after  all  this  designing,  there  was  not  one 
word  which  Paul  Decker  said  to  her,  or  which  she  said 
to  him,  which  might  not  be  displayed  in  large  letters 
on  a  newspaper  bulletin  in  Park  Row.  They  talked 
of  California  and  Arizona ;  of  the  beach  and  the 
mountains  ;  of  canons  and  Mount  Shasta  ;  of  Bret 
Harte  and  the  Overland  Monthly  ;  of  the  best  way  to 
press  eschscholtzias,  so  that  the  moisture  should  not 
injure  the  color  as  they  dried  ;  of  the  difference  be 
tween  nemophila,  as  it  grows  wild,  and  the  great  grand 
child,  nemophila,  when  it  has  been  transplanted  into 
gardens. 


SNOW-BOUND— NAHUM  MARROW'S  REVENGE.     69 

* 

No,  dear  Mrs.  Frechette,  there  is  not  one  syllable 
which  you  would  call  sentiment  passing  between  that 
handsome  young  man  and  that  timid  girl. 

I  do  observe  that  she  does  not  seem  so  timid  as  she 
did  when  we  called  her  Black  Ribbons,  and  she  was 
pitting  all  alone  in  Number  Three. 

The  early  dinner  of  the  train  came  soon,  and  the 
ladies  were  led  carefully  back  to  the  dining-room. 

Theodora  was  careful  this  time,  and  the  moment 
Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord  took  her  seat,  she  sat  at  her  side. 

But  Mrs.  Frechette  was  quite  equal  to  such  strategy 
as  that. 

There  seemed  no  manoeuvring.  But  so  it  was,  that 
when  her  four  were  seated  the  other  side  of  the  pas 
sage,  Mr.  Decker  was  left  standing.  There  was  then 
no  seat  left  but  that  next  Mrs.  Hackmatack,  and  that 
brought  the  young  man  opposite  Miss  Bourn,  who  had 
been  careful  that  he  should  not  be  at  her  side.  So  far 
Mrs.  Frechette  was  well  pleased. 

By  this  time  all  parties  were  skilled  in  the  little 
science  of  travelling,  and  now  they  succeeded  in  so  spin 
ning  out  the  changes  of  courses,  that  the  dinner  should 
take  nearly  an  hour  and  a  half  of  the  day,  which  was 
not  yet  weary. 

Then,  as  is  the  custom  in  palaces,  the  ladies  slept, 
and  the  gentlemen  retired  as  if  to  smoke  for  an  hour. 

But  at  four  in  the  afternoon  the  ladies  had  their 
novels  in  their  hands,  and  one  and  another  of  the 
gentlemen  came  back  to  the  palace. 

They  brought  cheerful  accounts  of  the  prospect. 
The  road  was  thought  to  be  open,  and,  by  one  rosy 
account,  the  train  had  gained  a  mile  and  a  half  in 
time. 


70  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

At  the  Wild  Cat  Junction,  Menet  and  Decker  had 
picked  up  their  luggage  which  had  waited  for  them. 

"  I  have  brought  you  Mrs.  Ville-Fosse's  sketch 
book,"  he  said  to  Theodora,  after  he  had  asked  permis 
sion  to  join  her.  "  She  trusted  it  to  me  to  carry  to 
one  of  her  Eastern  friends. 

"  Now,  I  can  show  you  her  studies  of  my  Zufii 
friends.  See  how  like  this  dear  old  priest  is  to 
Dante." 

And  so  they  plunged  into  the  luxury  of  turning  over 
slowly  the  pages,  well-filled  with  good  work,  of 
which  each  one  had  some  story  connected  with  the 
events  of  his  really  adventurous  life  in  Arizona.  For, 
as  Theodora  had  said  of  him,  Paul  Decker  was  no  mere 
carpet  knight.  And  his  exploits,  such  as  they  were, 
really  took  much  wider  range  than  he  had  pretended, 
when  he  spoke  of  himself  as  only  a  man  of  crucible  and 
blow-pipe.  He  had  voyaged  through  that  deepest 
canon  of  all,  where  the  people  have  as  little  knowl 
edge  of  the  upper  world  as  has  the  poor  jackass  in  a 
coal-mine.  He  had  hob-a-nobbed  with  Cochise,  and 
had  gone  on  long  scouting  parties  with  the  Gray  Fox, 
as  the  Indians  called  their  true  friend,  General  Crook. 

But  he  never  talked  of  himself.  Freshly  and  simply 
he  told  Theodora  only  of  the  wonderful  things  he  had 
seen,  or  that  others  had  described  for  him,  and  left  it 
almost  a  matter  of  guess  how  he  came  to  have  seen 
them  or  to  hear  them. 

And  she  found  herself  so  at  ease  with  him  that  she 
was  explaining  things  in  woodland  life  which  he  did 
not  understand.  She  had  been  in  the  open  air  much 
more  than  he  had — much  more,  indeed,  than  half  her 
waking  life — since  her  babyhood.  She  knew  things 
in  the  growth  of  flowers  and  shrubs  that  Decandolle  did 


SNO  W-BO  UND—NAHUM^  BA RRO  W S  RE  VENGE.     7 1 

not  know  nor  Linnaeus.  ~  Her  Indians  were  not  his 
Apaches,  no,  indeed,  but  she  could  tell  him  of  the 
half  savage,  half  civil  ways  of  the  wretched  red-skin 
stragglers  who  sometimes  came  in  to  barter  their  forest 
ware  against  sugar,  in  queer  little  details  which  lighted 
up  and  led  along  his  talk.  She  forgot  herself  and  he 
forgot  himself  in  their  eager  comparing  of  notes  about 
their  experiences  of  life. 

And  so  it  was  that  talk  passed  easily  on,  till  it 
touched  even  graver  things. 

He  had  told  her  of  his  descent  into  the  Deep  Cafion, 
and  she  went  back  to  ask  him  how  he  first  came  into 
it.  He  told  the  story  in  a  very  animated  way. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PAUL  DECKER'S  STORY— HANDS  OFF— LULU'S  DOLL. 

PAUL  DECKER'S  companions  had  made  a  long  line  of 
cart-ropes,  of  lassos,  even  of  sound  belts,  to  the  lowest 
of  which  he  was  fastened,  as  being  the  lightest  of  the 
party,  and  lowered  down,  nearly  two  hundred  feet. 
As  he  neared  the  bottom,  in  an  awkward  swing  to 
clear  a  projecting  rock  the  whole  line  trembled,  and 
about  midway  parted.  Half  of  it  fell  on  his  head  ;  he 
landed  heavily  on  a  pile  of  the  debris  from  the  cliff, 
and  rolled  and  rolled  till  he  was  giddy  ;  but  brought 
up,  just  conscious,  and  in  time  to  save  his  life,  on  a 
great  bit  of  rock. 

"  I  can  laugh  at  it  now,  but  I  did  not  laugh  then," 
said  he,  as  he  told  his  story  to  Miss  Bourn. 

"No,  indeed,"  cried  the  eager  girl.  "Were  you 
not  in  despair  ?  You  had  the  line,  and  they — " 

"  No,  I  was  not  in  despair.  I  was  on  the  rack  of 
curiosity.  '  What  will  happen  now  ?  What  will  come 
next  ?  '  I  said.  Queer,  I  remembered  Sindbad  in  his 
dark  hole.  Don't  you  remember?  And,"  he  paused 
a  little  seriously,  "  to  be  quite  true  to  you,  Miss  Bourn, 
I  remembered  the  yellow  dog." 

He  hardly  smiled.  He  looked  almost  afraid,  as  if 
he  had  gone  too  far,  yet  he  looked  proud  and  strong. 

Theodora  did  not  in  the  least  understand. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Decker  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  know,  really?    Then  you  do  not  know 


PAUL  DECKER' S^STORY,  ETC.  73 

what  is  one  of  the  great  comforts  of  my  life.  Did 
you  never  hear  that  if  a  yellow  dog  had  not  barked 
once,  this  world  would  not  be — that  you  and  I  should 
not  be  here  ?" 

"No,  indeed!     How?" 

11  Why,  he  was  a  dog  in  the  Midianites'  encampment. 
You  know  when  they  had  Joseph  as  a  prisoner, 
Joseph  was  escaping  in  the  morning — just  as  I  told 
you  our  man  Foss  got  off  from  Cochise — and  the 
yellow  dog  barked  at  him,  and  Joseph  flung  a  stone  at 
him. 

"  If  Joseph  had  killed  him,  why  there  would  never 
have  been  corn  in  Egypt  when  it  was  wanted,  and  you 
see  what  would  happen. 

"  Joseph  did  not  hit  him.  He  was  taken  again,  and 
— well  the  world  is  what  it  is. ' ' 

"  I  am  glad  you  tell  me  this,"  said  Theodora,  care 
fully,  and  even  gratefully.  "  I  think  it  will  make  my 
life  easier  to  me  sometimes.  Do  you  say  it  is  written 
out  and  printed  ?" 

"  I  have  it  in  an  old  Harper's,"  he  said.  And 
afterward  he  found  it  for  her  and  gave  it  to  her. 

It  is  the  story  of 

HANDS     OFF, 

I  was  in  another  stage  of  existence.  I  was  free  from 
the  limits  of  Time,  and  in  new  relations  to  Space. 

Such  is  the  poverty  of  the  English  language  that  I 
am  obliged  to  use  past  tenses  in  my  descriptions.  We 
might  have  a  verb  which  should  have  many  forms  in 
different  to  time>  but  we  have  not. 

It  happened  to  me  to  watch,  in  this  condition,  the 
motions  of  several  thousand  solar  systems  all  together. 
It  is  fascinating  to  see  all  parts  of  all  with  equal  dis- 


74  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

tinctness — all  the  more  when  one  has  been  bothered  as 
much  as  I  have  been,  in  my  day,  with  eye-pieces  and 
object-glasses,  with  refraction,  with  prismatic  colors  and 
achromatic  contrivances.  The  luxury  of  having  prac 
tically  no  distance,  of  dispensing  with  these  cumbrous 
telescopes,  and  at  the  same  time  of  having  nothing  too 
small  for  observation,  and  dispensing  with  microscopes, 
fussy  if  not  cumbrous,  can  hardly  be  described  in  a 
language  as  physical  or  material  as  is  ours. 

At  the  moment  I  describe,  I  had  intentionally  limited 
my  observation  to  some  twenty  or  thirty  thousand 
solar  systems,  selecting  those  which  had  been  nearest 
to  me  when  I  was  in  my  schooling  on  earth.  Nothing 
can  be  prettier  than  to  see  the  movement,  in  perfectly 
harmonic  relations,  of  planets  around  their  centres, 
of  satellites  around  planets,  of  suns,  with  their  planets 
and  satellites,  around  their  centres,  and  of  these 
in  turn  around  theirs.  And  to  persons  who  have 
loved  Earth  as  much  as  I  do,  and  who,  while  at  school 
there,  have  studied  other  worlds  and  stars,  then  dis 
tant,  as  carefully  as  I  have,  nothing,  as  I  say,  can  be 
more  charming  than  to  see  at  once  all  this  play  and  in 
terplay  ;  to  see  comets  passing  from  system  to  system, 
warming  themselves  now  at  one  white  sun,  and  then 
at  a  party-colored  double  ;  to  see  the  people  on  them 
changing  customs  and  costumes  as  they  change  their 
light,  and  to  hear  their  quaint  discussions  as  they  jus 
tify  the  new  and  ridicule  the  old. 

It  cost  me  a  little  effort  to  adjust  myself  to  the  old 
points  of  view.  But  I  had  a  Mentor  so  loving  and  so 
patient,  whose  range — oh  !  it  is  infinitely  before  mine  ; 
and  he  knew  how  well  I  loved  Earth,  and  if  need  had 
been,  he  would  have  spent  and  been  spent  till  he  had 
adjusted  me  to  the  dear  old  point  of  vision.  No  need 


PAUL   DECKER'S   STORY,  ETC.  75 

of  large  effort,  though.  There  it  was,  just  as  he  told 
me.  I  was  in  the  old  plane  of  the  old  ecliptic.  And 
again  I  saw  my  dear  old  Orion,  and  the  Dipper,  and 
the  Pleiades,  and  Corona,  and  all  the  rest  of  them,  just 
as  if  I  had  never  seen  other  figures  made  from  just  the 
same  stars  when  I  had  other  points  of  view. 

But  what  I  am  to  tell  you  of  is  but  one  thing. 

This  guardian  of  mine  and  I — not  bothered  by  time 
— were  watching  the  little  systems  as  the  dear  little 
worlds  flew  round  so  regularly  and  so  prettily.  Well, 
it  was  as  in  old  days  I  have  taken  a  little  water  on  the 
end  of  a  needle,  and  have  placed  it  in  the  field  of  my 
compound  microscope.  I  suppose,  as  I  said,  that  just 
then  there  were  several  thousand  solar  systems  in  my 
ken  at  once — only  the  words  "  then,"  "there,"  and 
"  once"  have  but  a  modified  meaning  when  one  is  in 
these  relations.  I  had  only  to  choose  the  "  epoch" 
which  I  would  see.  And  of  one  world  and  another  I 
had  vision  equally  distinct — nay,  of  the  blush  on  a  girl's 
cheek  in  the  planet  Neptune,  when  she  sat  alone  in 
her  bower,  I  had  as  distinct  vision  as  of  the  rush  of 
a  comet  which  cut  through  a  dozen  systems,  and 
loitered  to  flirt  with  a  dozen  suns. 

In  the  experience  which  I  describe,  I  had  my  choice 
of  epochs  as  of  places.  I  think  scholars  or  men  of 
scholarly  tastes  will  not  wonder  when  I  say  that  in  look 
ing  at  our  dear  old  Earth,  after  amusing  myself  for  an 
instant  with  the  history  of  northern  America  for  ten 
or  twenty  thousand  of  its  years,  I  turned  to  that  queer 
little  land,  that  neck  between  Asia  and  Africa,  and 
that  mysterious  corner  of  Syria  which  is  north  of  it. 
Holy  Land,  men  call  it,  and  no  wonder.  And  I 
think,  also,  that  nobody  will  be  surprised  that  I  chose 


76  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

to  take  that  instant  of  time  when  a  great  caravan  of 
traders  was  crossing  the  isthmus — they  were  already 
well  on  the  Egyptian  side — who  had  with  them  a  hand 
some  young  fellow  whom  they  had  bought  just  above, 
a  day  or  two  before,  and  were  carrying  down  south  to 
the  slave-market  at  On,  in  Egypt. 

This  handsome  youngster  was  Jussuf  Ben  Yacoub, 
or,  as  we  say,  Joseph,  son  of  Jacob.  He  was  hand 
some  in  the  very  noblest  type  of  Hebrew  beauty.  He 
seemed  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  old  ;  I  am  not  well 
enough  read  to  know  if  he  were.  The  time  was  early 
morning.  I  remember  even  the  freshness  of  the  morn 
ing  atmosphere,  and  that  exquisite  pearliness  of  the 
sky.  I  saw  every  detail,  and  my  heart  was  in  my 
mouth  as  I  looked  on.  It  had  been  a  hot  night,  and 
the  sides  of  the  tents  were  clewed  up.  The  handsome 
fellow  lay,  his  wrists  tied  together  by  a  cord  of  camel's 
hair  which  bound  him  to  the  arm  of  a  great  Arab,  who 
looked  as  I  remember  Black  Hawk  of  the  Sacs  and 
Foxes.  Joseph  sat  up,  on  the  ground,  with  his  hands 
so  close  to  the  other  that  the  cord  did  not  move  with 
his  motion.  Then,  with  a  queer  trick,  which  I  did 
not  follow,  and  a  wrench  which  must  have  been  agony 
to  him,  he  twisted  and  changed  the  form  of  the  knot 
in  the  rope.  Then,  by  a  dexterous  grip  between  his 
front  teeth,  he  loosened  the  hold  of  the  knot.  He  bit 
again,  again,  and  again.  Hurrah  !  It  is  loose,  and 
the  boy  is  free  from  that  snoring  hulk  by  his  side.  An 
instant  more,  and  he  is  out  from  the  tent  ;  he  threads 
his  way  daintily  down  the  avenue  between  the  tent 
ropes  ;  he  has  come  to  the  wady  that  stretches  dry 
along  the  west  flank  of  the  encampment  :  five  hundred 
yards  more  will  take  him  to  the  other  side  of  the 
Cheril-el-bar  (the  wall  of  rock  which  runs  down  toward 


PAUL   DECKER'S  STORY,  ETC.  77 

the  west  from  the  mountains),  and  he  will  be  free.  At 
this  moment  two  nasty  little  dogs  from  the  outlying 
tent  of  the  caravan — what  is  known  among  the  Arabs 
as  the  tent  of  the  warden  of  the  route — sprang  after 
him,  snarling  and  yelling. 

The  brave  boy  turned,  and,  as  if  he  had  David's  own 
blood  in  his  veins,  and  with  the  precision  of  David's 
eye,  he  threw  a  heavy  stone  back  on  the  headmost  cur 
so  skilfully  that  it  struck  his  spine,  and  silenced  him 
forever,  as  a  bullet  might  have  done.  The  other  cur, 
frightened,  stood  still  and  barked  worse  than  ever. 

I  could  not  bear  it.  I  had  only  to  crush  that  yelp 
ing  cur,  and  the  boy  Joseph  would  be  free,  and  in 
eight-and-forty  hours  would  be  in  his  father's  arms. 
His  brothers  would  be  saved  from  remorse,  and  the 
world — 

And  the  world — ? 

I  stretched  out  my  finger  unseen  over  the  dog,  when 
my  Guardian,  who  watched  all  this  as  carefully  as  I 
did,  said  :  "  No.  They  are  all  conscious  and  all  free. 
They  are  His  children  just  as  we  are.  You  and  I 
must  not  interfere  unless  we  know  what  we  are  doing. 
Come  here,  and  I  can  show  you." 

He  turned  me  quite  round  into  the  region  which 
the  astronomers  call  the  starless  region,  and  there 
showed  me  another  series — oh  !  an  immense  and 
utterly  unaccountable  series — of  systems,  which  at  the 
moment  seemed  just  like  what  we  had  been  watch 
ing. 

"But  they  are  not  the  same, "  said  my  Guardian, 
hastily.  '  You  will  see  they  are  not  the  same.  In 
deed,  I  do  not  know  myself  what  these  are  for,"  he 
said,  "  unless —  I  think  sometimes  they  are  for  you 


7 8  OUR    CHRISTMAS   IN  A    PALACE. 

and  me  to  learn  from.  He  is  so  kind.  And  I  never 
asked.  I  do  not  know." 

All  this  time  he  was  looking  round  among  the 
systems  for  something,  and  at  last  he  found  it.  He 
pointed  out,  and  I  saw,  a  system  just  like  our  dear  old 
system,  and  a  world  just  like  our  dear  old  world.  The 
same  ear-shaped  South  America,  the  same  leg-of- 
mutton-shaped  Africa,  the  same  fiddle-shaped  Mediter 
ranean  Sea,  the  same  boot  for  Italy,  and  the  same  foot 
ball  for  Sicily.  They  were  all  there.  "Now,"  he 
said,  "  here  you  may  try  experiments.  This  is  quite 
a  fresh  one  ;  no  one  has  touched  it.  Only  these  here 
are  not  His  children — these  are  only  creatures,  you 
know.  These  are  not  conscious,  though  they  seem  so. 
You  will  not  hurt  them,  whatever  you  do  :  nay,  they 
are  not  free.  Try  your  dead  dog  here,  and  see  what 
will  happen." 

Sure  enough,  there  was  the  gray  of  the  beautiful 
morning  ;  there  was  the  old  hulk  of  an  Arab  snoring 
in  his  tent  ;  there  was  the  handsome  boy  in  the  dry 
valley,  or  wady  ;  there  was  the  dead  dog — all  just  as 
it  happened — and  there  was  the  other  dog  snarling  and 
yelping.  I  just  brushed  him  down,  as  I  have  often 
wiped  a  green  louse  off  a  rose-bush  ;  all  was  silent 
again,  and  the  boy  Joseph  turned  and  ran.  The  old 
hulk  of  an  Arab  never  waked.  The  master  of  the  car 
avan  did  not  so  much  as  turn  in  his  bed.  The  boy 
passed  the  corner  of  the  Cheril-el-bar  carefully,  just 
looked  behind  to  be  sure  he  was  not  followed,  and 
then,  with  the  speed  of  an  antelope,  ran,  and  ran,  and 
ran.  He  need  not  have  run.  It  was  two  hours  before 
any  one  moved  in  the  Midianite  camp.  Then  there 
was  a  little  alarm.  The  dead  dogs  were  found,  and 
there  was  a  general  ejaculation,  which  showed  that  the 


PAUL   DECKER' S^STORY,  ETC.  79 

Midianites  of  those  days  were  as  great  fatalists  as  the 
Arabs  of  this.  But  nobody  thought  of  stopping  a 
minute  for  one  slave  more  or  less.  The  lazy  snorer 
who  had  let  him  go  was  well  lashed  for  his  laziness. 
And  the  caravan  moved  on. 

And  Joseph  ?  After  an  hour's  running,  he  came  to 
water,  and  bathed.  Now  he  dared  open  his  bag  and 
eat  a  bit  of  black  bread.  He  kept  his  eyes  all  round 
him  ;  he  ran  no  more,  but  walked,  with  that  firm, 
assured  step  of  a  frontiersman  or  skilful  hunter.  That 
night  he  slept  between  two  rocks  under  a  terebinth 
tree,  where  even  a  hawk  would  not  have  seen  him. 
The  next  day  he  treaded  the  paths  along  the  hill-side, 
as  if  he  had  the  eyes  of  a  lynx  and  the  feet  of  a  goat. 
Toward  night  he  approached  a  camp,  evidently  of  a 
sheik  of  distinction.  None  of  the  squalidness  here  of 
those  trading  wanderers,  the  Midianite  children  of  the 
desert  !  Everything  here  showed  Eastern  luxury,  even, 
and  a  certain  permanency.  But  one  could  hear  lamen 
tation,  and  on  drawing  near  one  could  see  whence  it 
came.  A  long  procession  of  women  were  beating  their 
arms,  striking  the  most  mournful  chords,  and  singing 
— or,  if  you  please,  screaming — in  strains  of  the  most 
heart-rending  agony.  Leah  and  Bilhah  and  Zilpah 
led  the  train  three  times  around  old  Jacob's  tent. 
There,  as  before,  the  curtains  were  drawn  aside,  and 
I  could  see  the  old  man  crouched  upon  the  ground, 
and  the  splendid  cloak  or  shawl,  where  even  great  black 
stains  of  blood  did  not  hide  the  gorgeousness  of  the 
party-colored  knitting,  hung  before  him  on  the  tent- 
pole,  as  if  he  could  not  bear  to  have  it  put  away. 

Joseph  sprang  lightly  into  the  tent  "  My  father,  I 
am  here!" 

Oh,  what  a  scream  of  delight  !    what  ejaculations  ! 


8o  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

what  praise  to  God  !  What  questions  and  what  answers  ! 
The  weird  procession  of  women  heard  the  cry,  and 
Leah,  Zilpah,  and  Bilhah  came  rushing  into  the  greet 
ing.  A  moment  more,  and  Judah  from  his  tent,  and 
Reuben  from  his,  headed  the  line  of  the  false  brethren. 
Joseph  turned  and  clasped  Judah's  hand.  I  heard 
him  whisper  :  "  Not  a  word.  The  old  man  knows 
nothing.  Nor  need  he." 

The  old  man  sent  out  and  killed  a  fatted  calf.  They 
ate  and  drank,  and  were  merry  ;  and  for  once  I  felt  as 
if  I  had  not  lived  in  vain. 

And  this  feeling  lasted — yes,  for  some  years  of  their 
life.  True,  as  I  said,  they  were  years  which  passed  in 
no  time.  I  looked  on,  and  enjoyed  them  with  just  that 
luxury  with  which  you  linger  over  the  charming  last 
page  of  a  novel,  where  everything  is  spring,  and  sun 
shine,  and  honey,  and  happiness.  And  there  was  the 
comfortable  feeling  that  this  was  my  work.  How 
clever  in  me  to  have  mashed  that  dog  !  And  he  was 
an  ugly  brute,  too  !  Nobody  could  have  loved  him. 
Yes  ;  though  all  this  passed  in  no  time,  still,  I  had  one 
good  comfortable  thrill  of  self-satisfaction  ;  but  then 
things  began  to  darken,  and  one  began  to  wonder. 

Jacob  was  growing  very  old.  I  could  see  that,  from 
the  way  he  kept  in  the  tents  while  the  others  went 
about  their  affairs.  And  then,  summer  after  summer 
I  saw  the  wheat  blight,  and  a  sort  of  blast  come  over 
the  olives  ;  there  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  murrain 
among  the  cattle,  and  no  end  of  trouble  among  the 
sheep  and  goats.  I  could  see  the  anxious  looks  of  the 
twelve  brothers,  and  their  talk  was  gloomy  enough, 
too.  Great  herds  of  camels  dying  down  to  one  or  two 
mangy  good-for-nothing  skeletons  ;  shepherds  coming 


PA  UL    DECK/-: R ' S    .V TOR  F,   ETC.  8 1 

back  from  the  lake  country  driving  three  or  four 
wretched  sheep,  and  reporting  that  these  were  all  that 
were  left  from  three  or  four  thousand  !  Things  began 
to  grow  doubtful,  even  in  the  home  camp.  The  women 
were  crying,  and  the  brothers  at  last  held  a  great 
council  of  the  head  shepherds,  and  camel-drivers,  and 
masters  of  horse,  to  know  what  should  be  done  for 
forage  for  the  beasts,  and  even  for  food  at  home. 

I  had  succeeded  so  well  with  the  dog  that  I  was 
tempted  to  cry  out,  in  my  best  Chaldee  :  "  Egypt  ! 
why  don't  you  go  down  to  Egypt  ?  There  is  plenty 
of  corn  there."  But  first  I  looked  at  Egypt,  and 
found  things  were  worse  there  than  they  were  around 
Jacob's  tents.  The  inundation  had  failed  there  for 
year  after  year.  They  had  tried  some  wretched  irriga 
tion,  but  it  was  like  feeding  the  hordes  of  Egypt  on 
pepper-grass  and  radishes  to  rely  on  these  little  watered 
gardens.  "  But  the  granaries,"  I  said — "where  are 
the  granaries  ?' '  Granaries  ?  There  were  no  granaries. 
That  was  but  a  dull  set  who  were  in  the  Egyptian  gov 
ernment  then.  They  had  had  good  crops  year  in  and 
year  out,  for  a  great  many  years,  too.  But  they  had 
run  for  luck,  as  I  have  known  other  nations  to  do. 
Why,  I  could  see  where  they  had  fairly  burned  the  corn 
of  one  year  to  make  room  for  the  fresher  harvest  of  the 
next.  There  had  been  no  Jussuf  Ben  Yacoub  in  the  min 
istry  to  direct  the  storing  of  the  harvest  in  those  years 
of  plenty.  The  man  they  had  at  the  head  was  a 
dreamy  dilettante,  who  was  engaged  in  restoring  some 
old  carvings  of  some  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  be 
fore. 

And,  in  short,  the  fellaheen  and  the  people  of  higher 
caste  in  Egypt  were  all  starving  to  death.  That  was, 
as  I  began  to  think,  a  little  uncomfortably,  what  I  had 


82  QUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

brought  about  when  I  put  my  finger  on  that  ugly, 
howling  yellow  dog  of  the  sleepy  Midianite  sentinel. 

Well,  it  is  a  long  story,  and  not  a  pleasant  one  ; 
though,  as  I  have  said,  as  I  and  my  companion  watched 
it,  it  all  went  by  in  no  time — I  might  even  say  in  less 
than  no  time.  All  the  glory  and  comfort  of  the 
encampments  of  Jacob's  sons  vanished.  All  became  a 
mere  hand-to-hand  fight  with  famine.  Instead  of  a  set 
of  cheerful,  rich,  prosperous  chiefs  of  the  pasture 
country,  with  thousands  of  retainers,  and  no  end  of 
camels,  horses,  cattle  and  sheep,  here  were  a  few  gaunt, 
half-starved  wanderers,  living  on  such  game  as  they 
could  kill  in  a  lucky  hunt,  or  sometimes  reduced  to 
locusts,  or  to  the  honey  from  the  trees.  What  grieved 
me  more  was  to  see  the  good  fellows  snapped  up,  one 
after  another,  by  the  beastly  garrisons  of  the  Canaanite 
cities. 

Heaven  knows  where  these  devils  came  from,  or 
how  they  roughed  it  through  the  famine.  But  here 
they  were,  in  their  fortresses,  living,  as  I  say,  like 
devils,  with  the  origins  of  customs  so  beastly  that  I 
will  not  stain  this  paper  with  them,  and  yet  with  a  sort 
of  craft  such  as  we  still  call  by  the  name  of  devilish,  so 
that  I  do  not  wonder  that  they  have  been  called  Devil- 
worshippers,  in  all  the  literature  of  which  I  know  any 
thing.  Here  they  were,  and  here  they  got  head.  I 
remember  how  disgusted  I  was  when  I  saw  them  go 
down  in  ships  into  the  Nile  country,  and  clean  out, 
root  and  branch,  the  Egyptians  who  were  left  after  the 
famine—just  as  I  have  seen  a  swarm  of  rose-bugs  settle 
on  a  rose  garden  and  clean  it  out  in  an  hour  or  two, 
There  was  the  end  of  Egypt.  Then  I  watched,  with  an 
interest  not  cheerful  now,  Dido's  colony  as  she  sailed 
with  an  immense  crew  of  these  Moloch-worshipping 


PAUL   DECKER'S  STORY,   ETC.  83 

Canaanites,  and  their  beastly  rites  and  customs,  and 
planted  Carthage.  It  was  interesting  to  see  poor  ^Eneas 
dodging  about  on  the  Mediterranean,  while  Dido 
and  her  set  were  faring  so  well — or  well  they  thought 
it — on  the  African  shore. 

I  will  own  I  was  rather  anxious  now.  Not  but  what 
there  was  something — and  a  great  gaudy  city  it  was — 
on  the  slopes  of  Mount  Moriah  and  Zion.  But  it  made 
me  sick  to  see  its  worship,  and  I  stopped  my  ears  with 
my  fingers  rather  than  hear  the  songs.  O  God  !  the 
yells  of  those  poor  little  children  as  they  burned  them 
to  death  in  Hinnom,  a  hundred  at  a  time,  their  own 
mothers  dancing  and  howling  by  the  fires  !  I  cannot 
speak  of  it  to  this  day.  I  dared  not  look  there  long. 
But  it  was  no  better  anywhere  else.  I  tried  Greece  ; 
but  I  could  make  nothing  of  Greece.  When  I  looked 
for  the  arrival  of  Danaus  with  his  Egyptian  arts  and 
learning — Toonh,  I  think  they  called  him  in  Egypt — 
why,  there  was  no  Toonh  and  no  Egyptian  arts,  be 
cause  these  Canaanite  brutes  had  cleared  out  Egypt. 
The  Pelasgians  were  in  Greece,  and  in  Greece  they 
stayed.  They  built  great  walls — I  did  not  see  for  what 
— but  they  lived  in  cabins  at  which  a  respectable 
Apache  would  turn  up  his  nose  ;  and  century  after 
century  they  built  the  same  huts,  and  lived  in  them. 
"  As  for  manners,  they  had  none,  and  their  customs 
were  very  filthy."  When  it  came  time  for  Cadmus, 
there  was  no  chance  for  Cadmus.  Perhaps  he  came, 
perhaps  he  did  not.  All  I  know  is  that  the  Molochite 
invasion  of  Egypt  had  swept  all  alphabet  and  letters 
out  of  being,  and  that,  if  Cadmus  came,  he  was  rather 
more  low-lived  than  the  Pelasgians  among  whom  he 
landed.  Really  all  Greece  was  such  a  mess  that  I 
hated  to  follow  along  its  crass  stupidity,  and  the  sav- 


84  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

age  raids  which  the  inhabitants  of  one  valley  made 
upon  another.  This  was  what  I  had  done  for  them 
when  I  mashed  that  little  yellow  dog  so  easily. 

ALneas  and  his  set  seemed  to  prosper  better  at  first. 
I  could  see  his  ships,  with  the  green  leaves  still  growing 
on  the  top-masts,  hurry  out  from  the  port  of  Dido.  I 
saw  poor  Palinurus  tumble  over.  Yes,  indeed,  queer 
enough  it  was  to  have  the  old  half-forgotten  lines  of 
Dryden — whom  I  know  a  great  deal  better  than  Virgil, 
more  shame  to  me — come  back  as  poor  Nisus  plead 
for  his  friend,  as  poor  Camilla  bled  to  death,  and  as 
Turnus  did  his  best  for  nothing.  Yes,  I  watched 
Romulus  and  the  rest  of  them,  just  as  it  was  in  Harry 
and  Lucy's  little  inch-square  history.  I  took  great 
comfort'  in  Brutus  ;  I  shut  my  eyes  when  the  noble 
lady  Lucretia  stabbed  herself  ;  and  the  quick-moving 
stereoscope — for  I  really  began  to  feel  that  it  was 
one — became  more  and  more  fascinating,  till  we  got  to 
the  Second  Punic  War. 

Then  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  that  cursed  yellow  dog 
came  to  the  front  again.  Not  that  I  saw  him,  of 
course.  Not  him  !  His  bones  and  skin  had  been 
gnawed  by  jackals  a  thousand  years  before.  But  the 
evil  that  dogs  do  lives  after  them  ;  and  when  I  saw  the 
anxiety  on  Scipio's  face — they  did  not  call  him 
Africanus — when  I  looked  in  on  little  private  confer 
ences  of  manly  Roman  gentlemen,  and  heard  them 
count  up  their  waning  resources,  and  match  them 
against  the  overwhelming  force  of  Carthage,  I  tell  you 
I  felt  badly.  You  see,  Carthage  was  simply  an  out 
post  of  all  that  Molochite  crew  of  the  East.  In  the 
history  I  am  used  to,  the  Levant  of  that  time  was 
divided  between  Egypt  and  Greece,  and  what  there  was 
left  of  Alexander's  empire.  But  in  this  yellow-dog  sys- 


PAUL   DECKERS  STORY,  ETC.  85 

tern,  for  which  I  was  responsible,  it  was  all  one  brutal 
race  of  Molochism,  except  that  Pelasgian  business  I 
told  you  of  in  Greece,  which  was  no  more  to  be  counted 
in  the  balance  of  power  than  the  Digger  Indians  are 
counted  in  the  balance  to-day.  This  was  what  made 
poor  Scipio  and  the  rest  of  them  so  downhearted.  And 
well  it  might.  I,  who  saw  the  whole,  as  you  may  say, 
together,  only,  as  I  have  explained,  it  did  not  mix  it 
self  up — I  could  see  Hannibal  with  his  following  of  all 
the  Mediterranean  powers  except  Italy,  come  down  on 
the  Romans  and  crush  them  as  easily  as  I  crushed  the 
cur.  No,  not  as  easily  as  that,  for  they  fought  like 
fury.  Men  fought  and  women  fought,  boys  and  girls 
fought.  They  dashed  into  the  harbor  of  Carthage 
once  with  fire-ships,  and  burned  the  fleet.  They  sent 
a  squadron  even  into  the  port  of  Sidon,  and  burned  half 
the  city.  But  it  was  no  good  :  army  after  army  was 
beaten  ;  fleet  after  fleet  was  sunk  by  the  great  Car 
thaginian  triremes.  Ah  me  !  I  remember  one  had  the 
cordage  of  the  admiral's  ship  made  from  the  hair  of  the 
Roman  matrons.  But  it  was  all  one.  If  it  had  been 
Manilla  hemp  or  wire  rope,  the  ship  would  not  have 
stood  when  that  brutal  Sidonian  admiral  rammed  at  her 
with  his  hundred  oarsmen.  That  battle  was  the  end  of 
Rome.  The  brutes  burned  it  first.  They  tumbled 
down  the  very  walls  of  the  temples.  What  they  could 
plough,  they  ploughed.  The  boys  and  girls  who  were 
not  big  enough  to  fight  they  dragged  into  slavery,  and 
that  was  the  end.  All  the  rest  were  dead  on  the  field 
of  battle,  or  were  sunk  in  the  sea. 

And  so  Molochism  reigned  century  after  century. 
Just  that,  one  century  after  another  century  :  two 
centuries  in  all.  What  a  reign  it  was  !  Lust,  brutal 
ity,  terror,  cruelty,  carnage,  famine,  agony,  horror.  If 


86  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

I  do  not  say  death,  it  is  because  death  was  a  blessing 
in  contrast  to  such  lives.  For  now  that  there  was  no 
body  to  fight  who  had  an  idea  above  the  earth  and 
dead  things,  these  swords  that  were  so  sharp  had  to  turn 
against  each  other.  No  Israel  to  crush,  no  Egypt,  no 
Iran,  no  Greece,  no  Rome,  Moloch  and  Canaan  turned 
on  themselves,  and  fought  Canaan  and  Moloch.  Do 
not  ask  me  to  tell  the  story  !  Where  beast  meets  beast, 
there  is  no  story  to  tell  worth  your  hearing  or  my  tell 
ing.  Brute  rage  gives  you  nothing  to  describe.  They 
poisoned,  they  starved,  they  burned ;  they  scourged 
and  flayed  and  crucified  ;  they  invented  forms  of  horror 
for  which  our  imagination,  thank  God,  has  no  picture, 
and  our  languages  no  name.  And  all  this  time  lust,  and 
every  form  of  pestilence  and  disease  which  depends  on 
lust,  raged  as  fire  rages  when  it  has  broken  bounds.  It 
was  seldom  and  more  seldom  that  children  were  born  ; 
nay,  when  they  were  born,  they  seemed  only  half 
alive.  And  those  who  grew  to  manhood  and  woman 
hood — only  it  is  desecration  to  use  those  names — 
transmitted  such  untamed  beastliness  to  those  who 
came  after  ! 

One  hundred  years,  as  I  said.  Fewer  and  fewer  of 
these  wretches  were  left  in  the  world.  I  could  see 
fields  grow  up  to  jungles  and  to  forests.  A  fire  wasted 
Carthage,  and  another  swept  away  On,  and  another 
finished  Sidon,  and  there  was  neither  heart  nor  art  to 
rebuild  them.  Then  another  hundred  years  dragged 
by,  with  worse  horrors,  if  it  were  possible,  and  more. 
The  stream  of  the  world's  life  began  to  run  in  drops, 
now  big  drops,  with  a  noisy  gurgle  ;  black  drops,  too, 
or  bloody  red.  Fewer  men,  and  still  fewer  women,  and 
all  mad  with  beastly  rage.  Every  man's  hand  was 
against  his  brother,  as  if  this  were  a  world  of  Cains. 


PAUL    DECKER'S  STORY,  ETC.  87 

All  this  had  come  to  them -because  they  did  not  like  to 
retain  God  in  their  knowledge. 

No,  I  will  not  describe  it.  You  do  not  ask  me  to. 
And  if  you  asked,  I  would  say  "  No."  Let  me  come 
to  the  end. 

The  two  centuries  had  gone.  There  are  but  a  hand- 
ful  of  these  furies  left.  Then  the  last  generation  came 
— and  for  thirty  years  more  of  murder  and  fight  it 
ground  along.  At  the  last,  how  strange  it  seemed  to 
me,  all  that  there  are  left,  in  two  unequal  parties,  each 
of  which  had  its  banner  still  for  fight,  and  a  sort  of  uni 
form  as  if  they  were  armies  ;  but  only  four  on  one  side 
and  nine  on  the  other  met,  as  if  the  world  were  not 
wide  enough  for  both,  and  met  in  that  very  Syria 
where  I  had  helped  Joseph,  son  of  Jacob,  to  fling  his 
arms  round  his  father's  neck  again. 

Nor,  indeed,  was  it  very  far  from  that  spot.  It  was 
close  to  the  wreck  and  ruin  of  the  Jebusite  city  which 
had  been  one  of  the  strongholds  last  destroyed  of  one 
of  these  clans.  That  city  was  burned,  but  I  saw  that 
the  ruins  were  smoking.  Just  outside  there  was  an 
open  space.  I  wonder  if  it  had  a  weird,  deadly  look, 
or  whether  the  horror  of  the  day  made  me  think  so  ? 
I  remember  a  great  rock  like  a  man's  skull  that  peered 
out  from  the  gray,  dry  ground.  Around  that  rock 
these  wretches  fought,  four  to  nine,  hiding  behind  it, 
on  one  side  or  the  other,  on  that  April  day,  under  that 
black  sky. 

One  is  down  !  Two  of  the  other  party  are  kneeling 
on  him,  to  take  the  last  breath  of  life  from  him.  With 
a  yell  of  rage  three  or  four  of  his  party,  dashing  their 
shields  on  the  heads  of  the  two,  spring  upon  them  ; 
and  I  can  see  one  wave  his  battle-axe  above  his  head, 
when — 


88  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

Did  the  metal  attract  the  spark  ?  A  crash  !  a  blaze 
which  dazzled  my  eyes,  and  when  I  opened  them  the 
last  of  these  human  brutes  all  lay  stark  dead  on  the  one 
side  and  on  the  other  of  the  grim  rock  of  Calvary  ! 

Not  a  man  or  a  woman,  not  a  boy  or  a  girl,  left  in 
that  world  ! 

"  Do  not  be  disturbed,"  said  my  Mentor.  "You 
have  done  nothing." 

"  Nothing  !"  I  groaned.  "  I  have  ruined  a  world  in 
my  rashness." 

"  Nothing,"  he  repeated.  "  Remember  what  I  told 
you  :  these  are — what  shall  I  say  ? — shadows,  shadowy 
forms.  They  are  not  His  children.  They  are  only 
forms  which  act  as  if  they  were — that  you  and  I  may 
see  and  learn,  perhaps  begin  to  understand — only  it 
passes  knowledge." 

As  he  spoke,  I  remembered  that  I  moaned  and 
struggled  with  him  like  a  crying  child.  I  was  all  over 
whelmed  by  the  sight  of  the  mischief  I  had  done.  I 
would  not  be  comforted. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  he  said  again.  "  You  have  only 
done,  or  wanted  to  do,  what  we  all  try  for  at  first. 
You  wanted  to  save  your  poor  Joseph.  What 
wonder  ?" 

"Of  course  I  did,"  sobbed  I.  "Could  I  have 
thought  ?  Should  you  have  thought  ?" 

"  No,"  said  he,  with  that  royal  smile  of  his — "  no,  I 
should  not  have  thought  once — I  could  not  have 
thought  it  once — till  I  too  tried  my  experiments." 
And  he  paused. 

Perhaps  he  was  thinking  what  his  experiments  also 
were. 

Then  he  began  again,  and  the  royal  smile  had  hardly 


PAUL   DECKER'S  STORY,  ETC.  89 

' 
faded  away  :  "Let  me  show  you.     Or  let  me  try.     You 

wanted  to  save  your  poor  Joseph — all  sole  alone." 

11  Yes,"  I  said.     "  Why  should  I  not  want  to  ?" 

Because  he  was  not  alone  ;  could  not  be  alone. 
None  of  them  were  alone  ;  none  of  them  could  be 
alone.  Why,  you  know  yourself  that  not  a  rain- drop 
in  that  shower  yonder  but  balances  against  a  dust-grain 
on  the  other  side  of  creation.  How  could  Joseph  live 
or  die  alone  ?  How  could  that  brute  he  was  chained 
to  live  or  die  alone  ?  None  of  them  are  alone.  None 
of  us  are  alone.  He  is  not  alone.  Even  He  is  in  us, 
and  we  are  in  Him.  But  the  way  with  men — and  it  is 
not  so  long,  dear  friend,  since  you  were  a  man — the 
way  with  men  is  to  try  what  you  tried.  I  never  yet 
knew  a  man — and  how  many  have  I  known,  thank 
God  ! — I  never  yet  knew  a  man  but  he  wanted  to 
single  out  some  one  Joseph  to  help — as  if  the  rest 
were  nothing,  or  as  if  our  Father  had  no  plans." 

"  I  shall  never  try  that  again  !"  sobbed  I,  after  a 
long  pause. 

"  4  Never,'  "  said  he,  "  is  a  long  word.  You  will 
learn  not  to  say  '  Never.'  But  I'll  tell  you  what  you 
will  do.  When  you  get  a  glimpse  of  the  life  in  com 
mon,  when  you  find  out  what  is  the  drift — shall  I  say  of 
the  game,  or  shall  I  say  of  the  law  ? — in  which  they  all 
and  we  all,  He  in  us  and  we  in  Him,  are  living,  then, 
oh,  it  is  such  fun  to  strike  in  and  live  for  all  !" 

He  paused  a  minute,  and  then  he  went  on,  hesitating 
at  first,  as  if  he  feared  to  pain  me,  but  resolutely  after 
ward,  as  if  this  must  be  said  : 

"  Another  thing  I  notice  in  most  men,  though  not 
in  all,  is  this  :  they  do  not  seem  at  first  to  understand 
that  the  Idea  is  the  whole.  Abraham  had  left  Ur  rather 
than  have  any  part  with  those  smoke-and-dust  men — 


90  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Nature-worshippers,  I  think  they  call  them.  How  was 
it  that  you  did  not  see  that  Joseph  was  going  down  to 
Egypt  with  the  Idea?  He  could  take  what  they  did 
not  have  there.  And  as  you  saw,  in  the  other  place, 
without  it,  why,  your  world  died." 

Then  he  turned  round  and  left  that  horrid  world  of 
phantoms,  to  go  back  to  our  own  dear  real  world. 
And  this  time  I  looked  on  TO-DAY.  How  bright  it 
seemed,  and  how  comforting  to  me  to  think  that  I  had 
never  touched  the  yellow  dog,  and  that  he  came  to  his 
death  in  his  own  way  ! 

I  saw  some  things  I  liked,  and  some  I  disliked.  It 
happened  that  I  was  looking  at  Zululand,  when  poor 
Prince  Lulu's  foot  slipped  at  the  saddle-flap.  I  saw 
the  assegai  that  stabbed  him.  Had  I  been  a  trooper 
at  his  side,  by  his  side  I  would  have  died  too.  But 
no,  I  was  not  at  his  side.  And  I  remembered  Joseph, 
and  I  said,  "  From  what  I  call  evil,  He  educes  good." 

But  as  Paul  Decker  and  Theodora  Bourn  rode  that 
evening  there  was  no  time  nor  light  for  reading  anything 
as  long  as  this.  In  their  talk,  they  forgot  time,  forgot 
themselves,  indeed,  as  has  been  said,  and  forgot  the 
others.  But  at  last  Caesar  came  to  light  up  their  palace 
for  them,  and  people  looked  at  watches,  and  moved 
back  and  forth,  and  soon  it  proved  that  again  they 
were  making  a  long  stop.  The  conductor  was  in  the 
telegraph  office,  and  was  trying  to  call. 

'Well,"  said  the  gay  Mrs.  Frechette,  "we  are 
independent  of  them.  One  of  these  gentlemen  must 
tell  us  a  story,  as  Mr.  Decker  did  before  dinner.  Mr. 
Menet,  it  is  your  turn  now." 

"  I  will  tell  the  party  the  story  of  General  Crook  and 
the  dolls,  which  I  told  you  just  now.  I  will  tell  it  first 


PAUL  DECKER'S- STORY,  ETC.  91 

as  little  Lulu  told  it,  and  then  I  will  tell  how  Mr. 
Grattan  told  it,  and  perhaps  Paul  will  tell  how  the 
red-skins  tell  it." 


And  between  them  they  told  the  story  of 
LULU'S  DOLL  DID  IT. 

WHAT    LULU    TOLD. 

"  My  doll  did  it,"  said  Lulu  to  the  others. 

As  it  happened,  Meg  and  I  came  into  the  play-room 
at  that  moment,  and  I  stopped  to  ask  what  her  doll 
did. 

"  My  doll  saved  three  hundred  people's  lives,  and  I 
believe  Lieutenant  Grattan  said  perhaps  she  saved  the 
country  from  war.  She  was  not  this  doll.  This  is 
Gertrude.  She  was  Patty — that's  Gertrude's  grand 
mother.  When  her  head  was  broke — we  were  at  Fort 
Darling  then — she  had  honorable  burial.  Wendell  and 
Tom  fired  a  salute  over  her  grave.  Sometimes  I  think 
Gertrude  looks  like  her,"  said  Lulu,  holding  Gertrude 
in  the  right  point  of  view.  "  She  certainly  has  her 
grandmother's  eyes." 

All  the  others  laughed  at  this,  it  was  so  exactly  in 
the  way  in  which  visitors  to  their  mothers  talked  about 
them. 

"  But  what  did  she  do,  Lulu  ?"  persisted  Meg. 

"  I  tell  you  she  saved  the  lives  of  a  whole  camp  of 
Indians.  You  see,  the  whole  command  was  in  camp  at 
a  place  they  called  the  Sweet-water  Gulch — a  real  nice 
place  it  was,  too.  And  the  general  was  very  anxious, 
papa  said,  and  I  know  mamma  was  anxious  too.  Well, 
one  day  an  orderly  came  running  over  to  our  tents,  by 
the  brook,  you  know,  to  ask  if  Miss  Lulu  had  a  doll. 
I  was  out  fishing  with  Wendell,  or  I  should  have  sent 


92  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Abigail.      But  mamma  did  not  know,  and  she  seized 
Patty,  and  sent  her. 

"  She  did  not  come  back  for  three  days,  and  then 
she  came  with  a  beautiful  bunch  of  grapes,  and  some 
birds,  from  the  general  to  me,  and  with  his  compli 
ments  to  Miss  Lulu — and  the  doll  had  been  a  peace 
maker,  and  had  saved  all  these  people's  lives. 

'  Yes  ;  only  wait,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it. 
'  We  were  ordered — that  is,  not  mamma  and  Wen 
dell  and  Patty  and  I,  but  the  command  was  ordered — 
to  suppress  an  Apache  rising.  The  Apaches  were 
horrid,  you  know.  They  had  never  made  peace  since 
anybody  could  remember.  Well,  the  general — he  is  a 
real  good  general,  anyway,  if  he  did  break  Patty's  leg 
— he  hates  to  kill  the  Indians.  So  he  took  us  to  Sweet- 
water  Gulch,  and  he  just  waited  and  waited  till  his  time 
came.  The'n  he  heard  of  these  thirty  lodges — that's 
three  hundred  people — all  by  themselves.  But  he 
never  touched  them.  Then  he  heard  of  three  lodges 
just  a  little  way  off,  and  he  pounced  on  them,  and  did 
not  kill  one  man.  He  brought  them  all  in  prisoners. 

"  They  were  horrid.  I  saw  them  the  next  day. 
They  sat  on  the  ground  with  their  blankets  round 
their  heads.  You  see,  they  thought  we  should  roast 
them  and  kill  them.  They  would  not  speak  to  one  of 
the  interpreters.  No  ;  two  whole  days  they  would  not 
say  one  word. 

"  Then  the  general  himself  and  his  aide,  Mr.  Grattan 
— he's  real  nice — went  to  the  prison-camp  themselves. 
And  the  general  took  one  Indian  girl  in  his  arms,  and 
Mr.  Grattan  took  another,  and  they  carried  them  to  the 
head-quarters  tent.  How  they  did  kick  and  scream  ! 
Wendell  and  I  were  going  fishing,  and  as  we  rode  out 
of  camp  we  could  hear  those  children  screaming, 


PAUL  DECKER'S  STORY,  ETC.  93 

as  far,  Meg,  as  your  father's  house.  The  general 
offered  them  sugar — and  they  had  candy  brought  for 
them — but  they  just  screamed  and  screamed  for  hours. 
They  screamed  till  they  were  so  tired  that  first  one  and 
then  the  other  fell  asleep.  The  general's  wife  had  one, 
and  I  believe  Mrs.  Myers  had  the  other.  But  they 
could  not  do  anything  with  them.  They  would  just 
kick  and  scream.  Then,  when  they  were  asleep,  the 
general  sent  for  a  doll,  and  mamma  sent  him  my 
Patty. 

"  By  and  by  the  Indian  child  waked  up — and  the 
general  had  her  on  his  sofa,  with  his  Arab  rug  on  her 
— and  he  sat  where  she  could  not  see  him  ;  but  he 
placed  Patty  where  she  could  see  her. 

"  And  I  suppose  she  forgot  where  she  was,  and  she 
began  playing  with  Patty.  And  then  she  called  the 
other  girl,  and  there  was  a  white  cotton  stuffed  rabbit 
for  her.  And  the  two  little  things  began  playing  in 
the  tent  on  the  ground,  and  then  the  general  gave 
them  candy  and  sugar  again.  And  this  time  they  took 
it.  And  before  long  Mr.  Grattan  and  the  general  and 
the  two  children  were  all  four  playing  together,  and 
were  all  great  friends. 

"By  and  by,  down  at  the  Indians' place — I  mean 
where  the  prisoners  were — they  told  the  children's 
mother  to  come  up  to  the  head-quarters  tent.  And  she 
came,  and  lo  and  behold  !  her  two  little  girls  were 
playing  with  the  general  and  Mr.  Grattan.  Mr.  Grattan 
was  cutting  out  paper  horses  for  them. 

'  Well,  that  began  it  all.  The  general  came  to  be 
very  friendly  with  these  thirty  prisoners.  Then  he 
trusted  them  to  go  to  the  others  with  a  message.  And 
they  went,  and  they  made  it  all  up — I  mean  they  made 
up  the  quarrel— and  so  there  was  not  any  war.  And 


94  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

we  were  ordered  off  to  Fort  Darling.  And  there  Patty 
had  her  bad  fall,  and  broke  her  head.  And  she  had  a 
military  funeral,  as  I  told  you.  She  had  it  because  the 
general  was  so  fond  of  her.  And  I  always  say  Patty 
did  it,  and  I  say  so  now." 

WHAT  THE  LIEUTENANT  TOLD. 

I  was  interested  in  what  Lulu  told,  in  her  energetic 
way,  and  when  I  was  in  New  York  the  next  week,  I 
asked  at  General  Hancock's  head-quarters  when  Lieu 
tenant  Grattan  would  come  East.  To  my  surprise  and 
pleasure,  I  found  he  was  at  the  Hoffman  House.  He 
had  arrived  that  day,  summoned  to  an  inquiry  about 
some  blankets. 

I  called  at  once  to  see  him.  After  we  had  talked 
about  some  old  friends  of  his  and  mine,  I  asked  him  if 
he  remembered  Lulu  and  her  doll  Patty.  He  smiled 
with  pleasure,  and  said  that  he  remembered  Patty  very 
well. 

"  If  you  know  the  general,"  said  Mr.  Grattan,  very 
earnestly,  "you  know  he  hates  to  take  a  drop  of 
Indian  blood  if  he  can  help  it  ;  and  though  he  has  done 
such  wonders  in  keeping  the  peace  out  there — and 
I  suppose  there  is  not  such  another  campaigner  in  the 
world — he  is  taking  care  of  the  poor  creatures  all  the 
time. 

"  He  had  had  a  wonderful  success  in  Oregon.  Well, 
I  will  tell  you  of  that  some  other  day.  All  of  a  sudden, 
by  telegraph,  we  were  all  ordered  down  into  the  Gila 
country — you  know  where — the  strip  we  bought  from 
Mexico — ordered  to  suppress  the  Apaches.  Everybody 
said  this  time  we  should  have  to  massacre  them  all. 
I  know  I  thought  so.  For  the  Apaches  had  always 
been  at  war.  They  did  not  know  what  a  treaty 


PAUL  DECKER'S  STORY,  ETC.  95 

was  ;  they  never  had  made  one,  that  was  certain.  It 
was  certain,  therefore,  that  they  never  broke  one. 

"  The  general  never  tarries,  and  we  were  soon  in 
the  valley  of  the  Colorado.  Before  long,  sure  enough, 
we  had  stories  of  the  red  rascals  everywhere.  But 
either  they  did  not  know  we  were  there,  or  they  did 
not  care.  We  were  not  there  a  week  before  a  gang  of 
them  separated  from  the  rest,  and  encamped  within 
forty  miles  of  us.  The  general  knew  to  a  man  who 
they  were  and  where.  And  every  man  in  the  com 
mand  wanted  him  to  pounce  on  them.  Instead  of 
which,  he  bade  me,  and  old  Andrew,  a  famous  scout, 
and  some  fifteen  dragoons,  to  go  and  hang  round,  with 
out  exposing  ourselves,  and  bring  him  three  or  four 
prisoners — women  and  children — if  we  could. 

"Oh  dear,  how  old  Andrew  hated  it  all!  '  Ef 
there's  anything  I  hate,'  said  he,  '  it's  nigger-ketching  ; 
'n  I'd  as  lief  ketch  a  nigger  as  a  red  man.  I  hate  it 
all.  But  ef  the  general  said  so,  et  mus*  be  done.' 

"  And  done  it  was.  We  snapped  up  three  or  four 
families  the  second  night,  clapped  them  all  on  fast 
horses,  and  were  at  head-quarters  before  noon.  And 
never  an  Apache  in  the  big  party  knew  it.  They  were 
all  so  secure  that  these  people  were  left  half  a  mile  be 
low  them  in  the  canon. 

4  Then  it  was  that  the  general  and  I  tried  baby- 
tending,  much  as  little  Lulu  told  you.  Heavens  !  how 
that  child  kicked  and  screamed  !  And  the  general's 
screamed  worse.  But  he  had  his  wife,  and  I,  alas  ! 
had  none.  But  I  did  have  a  sergeant's  wife,  a  real 
motherly  woman,  and  she  did  her  best.  But  both 
brats  cried  themselves  to  sleep.  It  was  then  that  the 
general  sent  for  the  doll.  And  Miss  Lulu  sent  her 
Patty,  if  that  was  the  name.  And  certainly  Patty 


96  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

won    all   the  blessings  of  the  peacemakers.      I  shall 
always  say  '  the  doll  did  it. '  ' 

HOW   VERMILION   TOLD   IT. 

What  Vermilion  told  me  belongs  in  the  story,  but  it 
was  more  than  a  year  after  when  I  first  saw  Vermilion. 

Vermilion's  real  name  was  Chie.  In  the  Apache 
language  Chie  means  "  vermilion." 

I  had  gone  to  Arizona  to  look  after  some  mining 
property — or  rather  some  Spanish  land  grants — which 
had  been  left  to  my  nieces,  the  two  Hermance  girls, 
by  the  death  of  Mr.  Stephen  Cochran.  Colonel 
McDavitt,  who  knows  all  about  mines,  had  agreed  to 
go  with  me,  and  so  we  had  come  to  Prescott  together. 
I  had  informed  myself  as  well  as  I  could  about  the 
titles  to  the  girls'  lands,  and  as  to  the  geography,  where 
they  were,  or  at  least  where  they  ought  to  be  ;  and  we 
were  about  to  start,  with  one  or  two  young  men  who 
had  joined  us  for  the  adventure,  when,  of  a  sudden, 
Colonel  McDavitt  was  recalled  to  Bangor.  There 
came  a  telegram  to  say  that  his  oldest  boy  had  a 
violent  attack  of  diphtheria,  and  it  was  thought  he 
would  not  live. 

This  changed  all  my  plans.  The  colonel  and  his 
nephew  went  to  the  East.  A  young  chemist  or 
assayer  whom  I  had  relied  on  did  not  care  to  go  so  far 
among  savages  alone,  and  I  found  that  I  was  to  be  the 
tvhole  of  the  party — poor  I,  who  had  no  experience  in 
wildernesses  or  in  campaigning. 

So  I  went  to  Governor  Fremont,  and  I  told  him  my 
story. 

It  proved  that  things  were  not  so  bad  as  I  feared. 
The  governor  gave  me  an  introduction  to  the  United 
States  officer  who  commanded  our  force  in  Arizona, 


PAUL   DECKERS  STORY,  ETC.  97 

and  said  he  would  know  who  was  going  toward  the 
Chiquito  country,  if  anybody  was,  and  whether  there 
were  any  chance  of  escort. 

And  so  it  proved  that  Colonel  McDavitt's  recall 
helped  me  to  a  very  pleasant  experience.  It  was  that 
which  introduced  me  to  Vermilion. 

For  the  colonel  said  at  once,  when  I  told  my  sad 
tale,  that  it  was  all  right,  that  he  had  only  the  day  be 
fore  given  Vermilion  a  furlough  that  he  might  spend  two 
or  three  weeks  with  his  friends,  and  he  sent  an  orderly 
for  Vermilion,  to  see  if  he  could  not  go  my  way. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  Vermilion  appeared  himself. 
From  the  first  I  was  pleased  with  him,  nor  had  I 
ever  to  change  my  opinion.  He  was  fully  six  fe.et 
high,  well-proportioned,  with  large  dark  eyes,  hair 
straight  and  perfectly  black,  and  long,  so  as  to  cover 
the  collar  of  his  jacket. 

To  my  surprise,  there  was  no  paint  upon  Vermilion. 
He  wore  the  blue  flannel  fatigue  jacket  of  the  American 
army,  with  stripes  of  gilt  braid,  not  usual  on  a  fatigue 
jacket,  which  showed  he  was  a  sergeant. 

I  found  that  he  was  a  regularly  enlisted  man  in  a 
corps  of  guides  or  scouts.  He  had  really  had  rank  as 
a  sergeant  in  one  or  two  expeditions,  and  so  the 
officers  humored  him  by  letting  him  wear  the  symbols 
of  the  rank. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  in  wretched  English,  "Vermilion 
go  two,  three,  four  days  to  the  east,  into  the  hills." 

And,  not  to  tell  you  of  the  difficulties  in  our  agree 
ment,  it  was  settled  that  we  should  ride  together,  first 
to  his  own  tribe,  or  sub-tribe,  which  he  was  going  to 
visit,  and  then  he  would  be  my  guide  to  the  region  for 
which  I  had  the  Spanish  titles.  Nothing  could  seem 
fairer  than  the  bargain. 


98  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

But  the  next  morning,  when  I  met  him  by  agree 
ment  at  the  camp,  half  an  hour  before  sunrise,  I  found 
he  would  not  start,  although  everything  seemed  ready. 
"  Store  shut,"  he  said— "store  shut;  all  store  shut 
last  night.  Store  open — store  open — all  store  open  by 
and  by." 

"  I  remonstrated  vainly  ;  offered  sugar,  tobacco,  and 
even  whiskey  from  the  government  stores,  which  I 
thought  would  honor  my  demands.  Nothing  would 
do  but  we  must  wait  and  wait  till  nearly  eight  o'clock, 
and  then  ride  back  into  Prescott,  from  which  I  had 
just  come,  for  him  to  go  to  a  particular  store  in  Mc 
Dowell  Street. 

I  was  at  Vermilion's  mercy  ;  so  I  had  to  go.  And 
then  I  had  to  sit  on  my  horse  in  McDowell  Street, 
holding  Vermilion's  horse,  for  a  long  half-hour,  while 
he  made  his  purchases.  It  was  nine  o'clock  before  we 
started,  when  we  might  have  left  Prescott  out  of  sight 
before  six.  Nor  could  I  make  him  tell  why  we  stop 
ped  there,  till  we  came  to  his  home. 

This  was  on  the  evening  of  our  fourth  day,  and  very 
hard  riding  it  was,  too.  We  came  to  a  range  of  hills 
which  seemed  to  me  very  cheerless,  when  Vermilion 
dismounted,  and  made  what  he  told  me  was  a  "  peace 
smoke."  Then  he  bade  me  wait  and  watch  the  smoke 
while  he  rode  forward  alone.  In  a  little  while  he  came 
back  with  another  Indian,  who  had  a  child  on  the 
saddle  behind  him.  The  man  was  Vermilion's 
brother  ;  his  name,  I  suppose,  was  Yellow  Ochre,  and 
for  aught  I  know  the  boy  was  Ultramarine.  I  was 
introduced  with  great  form,  and  we  then  rode  seven 
miles  more  through  very  deep  cafions,  till  we  came  to 
the  most  perfectly  defended  place  for  a  village.  There 
were  clefts  in  the  rock  to  enter  by,  and  others  to  re- 


PAUL    DECKER'S   STORY,  ETC.  99 

treat  by,  but  a  space  within— -yes,  as  big  as  Boston 
Common — of  green  grass,  with  a  pretty  stream  running 
through  it,  and  high  stone  walls  all  around,  one  or  two 
hundred  feet  high. 

We  were  received  with  all  the  honors.  There  was 
shouting,  and  singing,  and  every  sign  of  joy.  I  was 
presented  to  big  chiefs  and  little  chiefs,  and  in  Spanish 
and  in  English  and  in  Apache  we  made  protestations 
of  eternal  love  to  each  other.  Not  till  these  cere 
monies  were  over  would  Vermilion  take  me  to  one 
side,  where,  as  it  proved,  his  own  wife  and  his  own 
children  waited  for  him.  It  was  a  simple  home 
enough.  One  side  was  made  of  sandstone  rock 
twenty  feet  high,  and  the  other  side  by  a  large  scrub 
oak,  the  branches  of  which  touched  the  rock.  One  or 
two  large  boughs  had  been  cut  from  other  oaks  to 
thicken  the  shade.  The  ground  had  been  scooped 
out  to  make  a  place  for  some  grass  which  was  thrown 
in  for  a  bed. 

Vermilion's  wife  was  glad  to  see  him,  I  am  sure. 
She  told  me  so  afterward.  But  she  made  no  signs  of 
joy.  She  did  bring  forward  with  genuine  motherly 
pride  their  daughter,  a  little  girl  of  six  years  old. 
The  child  was  exquisitely  dressed  in  deer-skin 
perfectly  white,  with  very  bright  embroidery,  and  with 
a  certain  elegance  of  savage  finery  which  surprised  me. 

Vermilion  lifted  the  child  off  the  ground,  and  made 
no  pretence  of  concealing  his  pleasure  that  she  was  so 
tall  and  well.  Then  he  went  back  to  his  horse, 
unrolled  the  pack  behind  the  saddle,  and  produced  that 
mysterious  parcel  which  had  so  excited  my  wonder  ever 
since  we  left  McDowell  Street  on  Tuesday  morning. 
The  child's  mother  was  eager  by  this  time,  took  the 
knife  he  offered,  and  cut  the  cords  of  the  parcel.  An 


100  OUR    CHRIST  AT  AS  IN  A   PALACE. 

india-rubber  cover  came  off  first,  then,  to  their  amuse 
ment  and  amazement,  sheets  and  sheets  of  wrapping 
paper,  and  at  last,  in  all  the  glory  of  silk  and  satin  and 
ribbon  and  spangle,  a  doll  with  wax  head  and  staring 
blue  eyes  ! 

The  little  girl  screamed  with  delight,  and  her  screams 
were  taken  up  by  all  the  family. 

Indeed,  it  was  not  three  minutes  before  the  house 
and  we  were  the  centre  of  a  crowd  of  Indians,  clamor 
ing  with  curiosity,  and  eager  to  see  the  wonder  of 
which  the  fame  was  spreading  all  through  the  encamp 
ment. 

That  doll,  as  Lulu  afterward  made  me  certain,  must 
have  been  the  twin  of  Patty.  While  I  was  sitting 
groaning  in  the  saddle,  holding  the  'two  uneasy  horses 
in  McDowell  Street,  Vermilion  had  been  looking 
through  the  whole  stock  of  the  Prescott  dealer,  till  he 
could  match  Patty's  accomplishments  in  every  partic 
ular. 

On  the  morning  after  our  arrival  the  excitement  the 
doll  had  created  had  subsided  a  little,  and  I  made  Ver 
milion  tell  me  the  whole  story.  I  had  found  before 
this  that  he  spoke  Spanish  sufficiently  well,  and  with 
little  difficulty  I  could  make  out  the  whole. 

He  said  that  before  the  general  came  down  to  Sweet- 
water  Gulch,  the  camp  of  which  Lulu  had  told  me,  all 
his  own  sub-tribe  of  Apaches  "  had  been  to  the  bad 
place." 

By  this  phrase  he  meant  that  they  had  been  on  a 
raid — had  been  plundering  stock,  sheep,  and  horses. 

'  The  general  is  a  great  fighter.  He  knows  the 
white  man's  fighting.  He  knows  the  Indian's  fighting. 
Cochise  does  not  know  better. 


PAUL  DECKER'S  STORY,  kTC.  IOI 

'  The  general  took  Vermilion  asleep — and  Ponce, 
and  Yellow  Tail — and  her  and  her  and  her — twenty- 
seven  in  all.  Not  one  scalp  ;  not  one  gun  fired. 
Asleep.  Took  them  all. 

'  Vermilion  and  Ponce  and  Yellow  Tail  sang  their 
death-songs  and  waited  to  die.  Vermilion  had  scalped 
seven  white  men,  fourteen  white  women  and  girls.  It 
was  now  Vermilion's  turn.  Why  should  he  not  die  ? 

"  The  general  did  not  say  die.  The  general  caught 
the  '  Blue  Swan'  there,  and  Grattan  caught  the  '  Little 
Star '  there,  and  they  carried  them  away.  Vermilion 
said  the  white  men  will  scalp  the  children  first,  and 
then  they  will  come  for  Vermilion." 

He  stopped  for  five  minutes — not  looking  at  me, 
but  looking  at  the  ground.  Then  he  looked  up  with 
a  sunny  smile,  such  as  I  had  seen  on  his  face  only  once 
before. 

"  When  the  general  sent  to  scalp  Vermilion, 
Vermilion  found  the  Blue  Swan  playing  with  such 
another  as  you  saw  last  night." 

The  Blue  Swan  was  playing  with  Patty,  Lulu's  doll. 

And  Vermilion  was  fairly  garrulous  when  he  told  the 
rest :  how  the  general  sent  him  and  Ponce  and  Yellow 
Tail  on  their  parole  to  the  rest  of  the  band  ;  how,  one 
by  one,  they  persuaded  the  others  to  come  in  ;  how  all 
that  band,  after  much  suspicion,  agreed  on  some  sort 
of  treaty  with  the  general  ;  how,  one  by  one,  the 
general  engaged  all  of  them  who  were  good  for  any 
thing  as  scouts  or  guides.  It  was  clear  enough  that 
they  liked  better  to  have  Uncle  Sam's  uniform  on  their 
backs,  and  to  be  fed  with  his  rations,  than  to  starve 
on  occasional  "  finds"  of  acorns,  seeds,  or  even  the 
chance  of  rabbits  or  quail.  His  wife  had  come  up  by 
this. time,  and  the  little  girl,  with  Patty's  twin  sister 


102  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

in  her  arms.  The  woman  said,  with  very  pathetic 
earnestness,  "  Shi  tekeh  shieslinjune. " 

I  knew  nothing  of  the  words,  but  Vermilion  said  they 
meant,  "  I  the  flag  of  peace  love"  ;  and  this  seemed 
to  me  so  pretty  that  I  shook  hands  with  her,  smiled, 
kissed  the  child,  and  then,  to  their  wonder,  made  her 
say  again,  "  Shi  tekeh  shieslinjune,"  and  wrote  down 
the  words. 

The  little  girl  then  shyly  held  up  the  doll  to  me,  and 
I  kissed  it  ;  and  Vermilion  said,  with  the  greatest 
seriousness,  "  It  was  the  little  wax  woman  who  did 
it  all" 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHRISTM  A  S     EVE. 

WITH  the  long-drawn  evening  supper  in  the  dining- 
car  there  came  on  the  ladies  of  the  party  the  certainty 
that  their  Christmas  day  was  not  to  be  spent  in  church 
or  in  family  frolic.  The  Corneaus'  vehicle  would  wait 
long  at  the  station  at  Hastings.  But  little  hope  now  that 
the  bride  and  bridegroom,  or  any  chance  companions 
of  theirs,  would  eat  at  their  dinner.  No  !  the  Corneaus 
must  pick  up  their  guests  from  the  high-ways  and  by 
ways,  for  those  that  were  bidden  would  certainly  not 
be  at  the  table. 

This  time  the  train  was  standing  still,  not  at  any 
junction  or  station,  but  on  the  bleak  side  of  the  Platte 
River,  with  not  a  house  in  sight,  nor,  indeed,  with  any 
thing  in  sight,  so  dense  was  the  blinding  snow.  The 
reason  of  the  failure  of  the  telegraph  was  now 
explained.  In  a  tempest  of  the  day  before,  a  long 
snow-shed  had  been  whirled  over — posts  and  telegraph 
had  gone  to  the  ground  with  it,  and  the  wreck  had  lain 
across  the  track  in  wild  confusion.  A  strong  working 
party  had  cleared  away  the  rubbish  in  a  fashion.  But 
with  the  early  afternoon  a  new,  heavy,  hard-packing 
storm  of  snow  had  set  in  upon  the  unprotected  road, 
and  the  heaps  of  ruin  only  made  points  of  vantage 
from  which  and  upon  which  drifts  could  gather. 

In  short,  the  train  was  standing  still  this  time, 
because  it  had  to  stand  still,  and  the  engine-driver  and 
conductor  were  accepting  the  inevitable. 


104  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

'What  I  say  is  this/'  said  the  irrepressible  Mrs. 
Frechette,  "if  we  are  to  spend  Christmas  here,  it 
shall  be  a  merry  Christmas.  I  am  not  going  to  mope 
and  mourn  because  for  once  I  spend  my  Christmas  in  a 
palace.  I  have  always  suspected  that  such  was  my  des 
tiny.  Dear  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord,  I  was  dreadfully  dis 
appointed  when  they  did  not  choose  my  husband  King 
of  Bulgaria.  That  seemed  the  last  chance,  you  know. 
What  I  propose  is  this  :  Mr.  Van  Sandfoord,  Mrs. 
Hackmatack,  and — and  you,  Mr.  Frechette,  shall  be  a 
committee,  to  retire  now,  as  soon  as  we  have  done  our 
supper.  No  ;  we  will  retire,  and  you  shall  stay  here, 
and  you  shall  agree  on  the  programme  of  the  Christmas 
festivities.  Every  one  shall  be  invited — the  brakemen 
and  the  porters  and  firemen,  and  cooks,  and  all, — all 
the  people  forward,  and  the  conductor.  There  is  room 
enough,  and  we  will  have  a  real  jolly  time,  as  we  spend 

OUR  CHRISTMAS  IN  A  PALACE." 

"  All  right,"  said  Hector,  eager  to  keep  up  the  ball. 
"  But  what  are  we  to  report,  dear  Mrs.  Fr6chette  ? 
It  would  help  us  if  you  told  us  that. 

'  The  committee  will  please  withdraw  to  the  kitchen 
end  of  the  car." 

"  Report  !  Mr.  Van  Sandfoord,  you  are  certainly 
not  a  goose.  There  is  only  embarrassment  of  riches. 
We  shall  sing  songs  and  hymns.  We  shall  tell 
stories  and  act  charades.  You  may  preach  a  sermon, 
if  you  like,  and  I  will  not  go  to  sleep.  I  dare  say 
Caesar  will  clear  up  the  palace,  so  that  you  can  dance 
a  clog  dance,  and  Mr.  Menet  and  I  can  waltz  together. 
I  am  not  going  to  make  your  report  for  you.  Mr. 
Menet,  please  help  me  across.  Come  here,  girls, 
and  let  them  have  the  car  for  their  consultations." 


CHRIS  TMA  .9  E  VE.  1 05 


"  For  one,"  said  George  Hackmatack,  "  I  offer  my 
contribution  in  advance.  I  have  in  my  portfolio,  if 
Julia  has  not  cleared  it  up,  a  Christmas  story,  by  Mr. 
Collingwood." 

"  A  Christmas  story — what  luck  !  when  our  stories 
have  all  been  about  Thanksgiving.  But  who  is  Mr. 
Collingwood  ?" 

"  Mr.  Collingwood — oh,  he  is  a  student  in  that  capi 
tal  college  at  Lansing.  There  boys  go  out  in  the  woods 
winters,  and  make  themselves  of  use  to  God  and  man 
in  cutting  lumber.  So  he  knows  a  camp  by  living 
practice,  as  well  as  Bret  Harte  knows  it  by  insight 
and  a  poet's  observation.  If  you  do  not  say  this  story 
of  his  is  as  tender  as  one  of  Bret  Harte's  stories,  I 
shall  cry.  Why,  I  read  it  to  one  of  our  first  critics, 
and  all  he  could  say  was  that  it  was  studied  after 
the  story,  '  How  Santa  Claus  Came  to  Sandy  Bar.' 
But  I  said  that  that  was  a  great  compliment  to  Bret 
Harte,  for  Mr.  Collingwood  studied  this  story  in  the 
very  woods  of  which  he  tells." 

All  this  George  Hackmatack  told  them  as  the 
palace  party  gathered  under  Caesar's  lamps,  leaving 
their  committee  behind  them. 

The  committee  came  in  while  he  was  talking.  It 
proved  that  they  had  adjusted  their  report  to  meet 
what  he  had  said.  Hector  then  stepped  forward,  to 
the  very  front  of  the  passage-way,  and  read,  in  an  ora 
torical  tone,  from  a  large  sheet  of  paper, 

THE  COMMITTEE'S  REPORT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  COMMITTEE'S  REPORT  AND  WHAT  FOLLOWED. 

1.  EVERY  prince  and  princess — that  is  all  dwellers  in 
the  palace — shall  hang  up  a  stocking  to-night  outside 
the  curtain,  lest  Santa  Claus  be  disappointed. 

2.  Breakfast    will   be  served    at  eight-thirty.       All 
princes   and    princesses    not    present    will    be   killed. 
Quail  on  toast,  broiled  chicken,  fried  oysters,  antelope 
steak,  and  buffalo's  hump. 

3.  Gathering  in  the  palace  at  ten.     The  whole  train 
invited — and    the    inviting   party.      Milton's    hymn, 
Sears'shymn,  and  such  other  music  as  the  choir  selects 
to   be   sung  by  the  company.      Singing  led   by  Mr. 
Menet,  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord,  and  Professor  Wisner. 

[Professor  Wisner  was  one  of   the  passengers  for 
ward.] 

4.  At   eleven,    the  party  meets  again — strict  punc 
tuality — for  literary  exercises. 

I.  Mr.  Hackmatack  reads  Mr.  Collingwood's  story. 

II.  Mrs.  Frechette  sings  an  original  ballad. 

III.  Mr.  Menet  delivers  an  oration. 

IV.  Mrs.  Frechette  makes  a  confession. 

V.   Mrs.  Van    Sandfoord  relates  the  history  of  her 

life. 

VI.   Mr.  Frechette  reads  an  essay. 
VII.   Mrs.  Hackmatack  tells  how  her  children  had  the 
mumps. 


THE  COMMITTEE' S  REPORT.  167 

VIII.   Prayer  in  "  Moses  in  Egypt, ' '  sung  by  the  com 
pany,  led  by  Mrs.  Fr6chette. 
IX.  The   Apache's    Revenge,  a   tableau,  by   Mr. 

Decker  and  Professor  Wisner. 
X.  A  historical  essay  on  the  uses  of  Christmas, 

by  Mr.  Hector  Van  Sandfoord. 
XL  Intermission  for  dinner. 

BILL  OF  FARE. 

Buffalo  hump. 
Antelope  steaks. 
Wild  turkey. 
Tame  turkey. 
Fried  oysters. 
Broiled  chicken. 
Hog. 
Hominy. 
Canned  peaches. 
Plum  pudding  with  burning 
brandy. 

XII.  One  hour  for  naps  and  digestion. 

XIII.  Love  story  by  Mr.  Fr6chette. 

XIV.  Duet  from  "Figaro,"  by  Mrs.  Frechette. 
XV.   Bravura  by  Miss  Bourn. 

XVI.  Blood-and-thunder   story,    by   Mr.    Hackma 
tack. 

XVII.  Cantata  from  "  Fidelio,"  by  Mrs.  Frechette. 
XVIII.  The    Declaration    of    Independence,  repeated 

from  memory,  by  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord. 
XIX.  A   treatise  on   the  moral  law,   by  Mrs.  Fr6- 

chette. 

XX.  The  history  of  Troy,  by  Mrs.  Fr6chette. 
XXI.   Readings  from  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  by  Mrs. 
Fr6chette. 


Io8  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

XXII.   The  compact  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower, 
by  Mrs.  Frechette. 

XXIII.  The  constitution  of  California,  by  Mrs.  Fre 

chette. 

XXIV.  The  Children    in   the   Wood,  by   Mrs.    Fr6- 

chette. 

M  Stop,  stop,  stop  !"  cried  that  lively  lady.  "  You 
will  keep  us  here  till  May-day  before  you  have  done. 
But  I  will  do  my  part,  all  of  you  do  yours,  and  we 
will  have  a  merry  Christmas. 

"  Dear  William,"  she  said  to  her  husband  in  a 
stage  whisper,  "do  go  forward  with  my  key  to  the 
baggage-car,  open  my  small  trunk,  and  bring  me  the 
largest  pair  of  stockings  you  can  find." 

And  so  they  fell  to  singing  songs,  and  Christmas 
eve,  after  all,  passed  gayly. 

Before  they  bade  good-night,  Paul  Decker  whispered 
to  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord  : 

"  I  am  going  to  make  you  a  present.  Is  there  any 
harm  in  my  giving  a  little  picture  to  Miss  Bourn  ?" 

"  Harm  !  not  a  bit  of  it  ;  it  is  all  a  frolic,  of  course. 
I  am  glad  I  am  to  have  one.  Good-night." 

"Good-night." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 

AND  so  the  next  morning  there  was  great  laughing 
and  rattle  as  the  stockings  were  opened. 

Mrs.  Frechette  took  command.  She  was  as  fresh 
and  pretty  in  her  jaunty  morning  dress  as  if  she  had  a 
party  at  breakfast  in  the  Athente.  She  was  dressed 
early — and  cried  aloud  :  "  No  one  is  to  open  a  stock 
ing  till  all  are  ready,  and  then  come  all  together  here. 

"  I  wish  you  a  Merry  Christmas  and  a  Happy  New 
Year." 

And  then  from  every  curtain  there  echoed  her  joyous 
cry: 

"  Merry  Christmas  and  Happy  New  Year." 

Every  sort  of  riff-raff  was  in  the  stockings — oranges, 
nuts,  raisins,  old  jack-knives,  little  hemlock  cones  done 
up  in  dainty  jewel-boxes,  and  sometimes  the  bona-fide 
presents,  which  had  been  hidden  away  for  this  morning. 
Paul  Decker's  presents  to  the  rest  were  all  spirited  little 
drawings  on  cards.  Perhaps  he  had  some  of  them  in 
his  pack.  Clearly  enough  he  had  drawn  most  of  them 
by  the  baggage-master's  lantern,  after  the  party  had 
broke  up  for  the  night  before.  For  they  were  little 
sketches  of  things  that  had  happened  or  had  been 
talked  of  the  day  before.  To  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord  he 
gave  a  little  picture  of  his  great-grandfather  reading 
Governor  Trumbull's  Thanksgiving  Proclamation.  To 
Miss  Bourn  he  gave  a  spirited  drawing  of  Joseph — well 


no  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

conceived,  in  a  vigorous  attitude — just  drawing  back 
his  stone  to  throw  it  at  the  yelping  dog. 

Here  he  had  washed  in  a  little  paint.  Faces  and 
rocks  showed  their  colors. 

And  the  yelping  dog  was  yellow. 

The  presents  made  no  end  of  fun,  and  the  breakfast 
which  followed  was  jolly  beyond  compare. 

So  was  struck  happily  the  key-note  of  the  day. 


It  was  fairly  ten  o'clock  when  the  palace  was  quite 
full  with  three  times  the  number  of  its  regular 
occupants.  The  Christmas  party  had  made  itself  up 
exactly  as  the  wily  proposer  of  it  had  suggested. 

Professor  Wisner  and  his  associates  had  taken  faith 
fully  in  hand  the  duty  given  them.  Really  he  led  in 
the  singing,  in  that  noble  baritone  voice  which  has 
charmed  and  won  so  many  assemblies  so  much  larger. 
They  had  taken  possession  of  the  baggage-car  for 
practice,  and,  as  they  sang,  the  tears  stood  in  the  eyes 
of  more  than  one  of  those  around  ;  and,  when  there 
was  a  chance  for  a  chorus,  the  company  joined  with 
a  devotion  and  tenderness  that  St.  Stephen's  or  the 
Vatican  might  envy. 

Christmas  began  with  a  devout  strain,  harmonizing 
well  with  the  key,  as  it  should  do. 

One  hymn  and  another,  indeed,  filled  up  well-nigh 
an  hour  with  chatter  and  consultation  as  to  times 
between. 

At  eleven  Hector  Van  Sandfoord  stood  on  the  coal- 
box,  and  with  a  loud  voice  he  said  :  "  Ladies  and 
gentlemen,  we  have  only  too  little  time  for  our  pro 
gramme.  You  will  give  your  attention  to  Mr.  Hack 
matack,  and  he  will  read  to  you  Mr.  Collingwood's 
original  Christmas  tale,  called 


CHRISTMAS  MORXING—COONEY  CAMP.          Ill 

"CHRISTMAS   IN   COONEY   CAMP." 

The  citizens  of  Cooney  Camp  were  considerably 
excited.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  understood  as  implying 
that  social  life  at  Cooney  Camp  was  usually  very  stag 
nant.  It  has  always  been  known  as  the  liveliest  camp 
on  the  river,  and  nobly  did  its  citizens  strive  to  sus 
tain  its  reputation.  But  there  was  something  so  strange 
about  the  present  excitement  that  I  feel  it  my  duty  to 
chronicle  it. 

Cooney 's  was  simply  a  lumber  camp  in  the  wild  north 
woods  of  Michigan.  In  a  little  clearing  on  the  side 
of  a  high  hill  a  few  rough  log  buildings  were  gathered. 
The  public  buildings  were  not  known  by  any  high- 
sounding  names.  They  were  simply  the  "  Men's 
Shanty,"  the  "  Cook's  Shanty,"  and  the  "  Foreman's 
Shanty."  These,  with  barns  and  sheds,  and  a  few 
small  log  houses  for  such  lumbermen  as  could  be  in 
duced  to  bring  their  families  into  the  woods,  made 
up  the  whole  of  the  settlement. 

But  if  the  architectural  development  of  Cooney 
Camp  was  of  an  inferior  quality,  its  society  was,  to 
use  a  camp  phrase,  "  way  up."  The  thirty  lumber 
men  who  made  up  its  working  force  were,  for  the  most 
part,  as  rough  specimens  of  humanity  as  could  well  be 
found.  They  were  proud  of  the  fact  that  they  could 
produce  two  fiddlers,  five  singers,  and  one  gentleman 
who  could  play  numberless  airs  on  a  "  mouth-organ." 

Heavy  literary  work  was  not,  perhaps,  much  in  their 
line,  but  if  occasion  required  they  could  produce 
Frank,  a  college  student,  who  had  come  into  the  woods 
in  the  hope  of  finding  health  and  strength  in  the  rough 
out-door  life. 

But  greater   than   all   these    attractions,    the  point 


1 12  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

wherein  Cooney's  stood  far  ahead  of  other  camps,  was 
the  fact  that  she  possessed  the  society  of  "two 
wimmin  an'  a  kid."  The  foreman's  wife  kept  house 
for  her  husband  in  the  little  log  shanty  nearest  the 
wood,  while  on  the  other  side  of  the  clearing,  opposite 
the  "  Men's"  shanty,  lived  "  Cracknosed  '  Smith,  with 
his  wife  and  little  girl. 

Smith  had  been  given  his  nickname  from  the  singu 
lar  appearance  of  his  nose.  This  member  had  been 
broken  and  twisted  and  cracked,  until  it  was  unlike  any 
other  nose  ever  seen. 

Cooney  Camp  could  easily  have  dispensed  with  the 
society  of  Cracknose,  but  it  would  have  been  hard  work 
to  get  along  without  the  little  girl.  She  was  the 
pride  of  the  camp,  the  brightest,  dearest,  little  bud  of 
humanity  that  ever  attempted  to  blossom  in  suth  a 
rough  place.  She  was  like  a  delicate  mountain  flower 
growing  alone  among  bare,  bleak  rocks. 

I  remember  one  day  that  "  Cracknose"  attempted  to 
whip  her.  A  dozen  men  at  once  informed  him,  in  the 
forcible  language  of  Cooney  Camp,  tha*  if  he  touched 
her  they  would  thrash  him  within  an  inch  of  his  life. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  whipping  was  post 
poned. 

But,  as  we  started  to  say,  there  was  a  strange  excite 
ment  in  Cooney  Camp. 

It  was  Christmas  eve,  and  some  little  reflection  of 
the  happiness  and  good-cheer  in  the  world  outside 
seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  the  camp. 

The  men  came  in  from  their  work  in  the  woods  in 
great  good  humor.  It  is  wonderful  how,  at  such  a 
time,  the  true  nature  of  a  man  shines  out,  and  how 
little,  foolish,  blundering  acts  betray  a  warm  heart 
beneath  a  rough  exterior.  Each  man,  as  he  came  into 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING-  COONEY  CAMP.  113 

camp,  brought,  half  foolishly,  some  little  Christmas 
token.  It  was  only  a  bunch  of  hemlock  branches,  or 
a  bunch  of  red  berries,  or,  perhaps,  some  fragrant  cedar 
boughs  ;  but,  slight  as  they  were,  the  little  tokens 
showed  their  appreciation  of  the  day. 

In  a  more  civilized  community  it  would  have  been 
considered  a  very  simple  thing  for  a  man  to  pick  up  a 
bit  of  green  at  Christmas,  but  with  these  rough  fellows 
it  was  different.  Here  was  red-haired  Tom,  who  had 
killed  a  man  in  the  next  county,  coming  in  with  a 
bunch  of  winter  berries.  Here  was  Jake,  who  kicked 
an  Indian  out  of  doors  but  the  week  before,  dragging 
in  a  great  mass  of  hemlock,  and  even  old  Bill  coming 
in  with  a  great  tree  on  his  back,  which  he  proceeded 
to  decorate  with  old  boots  and  shoes,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  boys.  Every  one  was  good-natured,  and 
all  were  bent  on  having  a  good  time. 

Hugh,  the  first  fiddler,  put  a  new  string  in  his  violin, 
and  having  found  its  tone  to  be  perfect,  laid  it  care, 
fully  away  in  his  bunk  till  after  supper. 

Mike  and  Fred  appointed  themselves  a  committee  of 
arrangements,  and  announced  that,  as  soon  as  supper 
was  over,  the  floor  would  be  cleared  fora  "two  by 
four,"  that  being  the  camp  name  for  a  square  dance. 

Supper  was  eaten  in  a  great  hurry,  and  back  the  men 
rushed  to  the  shanty,  and  took  their  places  on  the  floor 
to  walk  through  the  great  "  two  by  four." 

Sing,  ye  muse,  of  a  pine  wood's  dance  !  The  men 
stand  in  place,  with  their  outer  clothing  tossed  aside, 
ready  at  the  signal  to  throw  themselves  into  the 
motion.  Those  who  are  to  impersonate  ladies  are  dis 
tinguished  from  the  others  by  removing  their  hats. 
They  stand  as  solemn  as  owls  in  the  consciousness  of 
their  new  dignity,  and  "gallivant  left"  and  "ladies 


114  OUR   CUTRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

chain"  with  becoming  modesty.  The  fiddler  sits 
above  them  on  an  empty  pork-barrel,  with  his  fiddle 
clasped  lovingly  under  his  chin,  ready  to  set  the  party 
in  motion  at  the  touch  of  his  magic  bow.  The  lantern 
hangs  from  a  nail  in  the  roof.  The  fire-light  flashes 
over  all,  bringing  out  the  rough  walls  and  empty  bunks 
in  bold  relief. 

So  the  Cooney  campers  stood  that  Christmas  eve, 
waiting  for  the  signal,  when  the  door  opened,  and  in 
rushed  old  Jack — gruff,  grizzled  old  Jack,  the  roughest, 
ugliest,  and  most  profane  man  in  camp. 

"  Shet  up  this  yer  old  circus,"  he  shouted,  "an' 
hark  what  I  tell  ye. ' ' 

The  "  set"  broke  up  in  a  moment.  Hugh  dropped 
his  fiddle  and  bow,  and  Mike,  who  was  to  "  call  off," 
stood  silent,  with  his  mouth  open  in  the  very  act  of 
ordering  "  s'lute  pardners. " 

'  Thar's  a  man  in  this  yar  camp,"  said  Jack,  "  ez 
wants  humpin'.  It  kinder  come  over  me  all  ter  onst, 
thet  I'd  go  up  ter  Smith's,  an'  git  his  woman  an'  kid 
ter  come  down  an'  see  the  fun.  But  when  I  gut  thar, 
blame  me  ef  he  warn't  layin'  ez  drunk  ez  a  loon,  with 
his  woman  a-yellin',  an'  thet  little  kid  jest  a-lookin'  at 
him  with  them  big  eyes  of  hern.  Now  blame  me  ef 
it's  right.  Somethin'  orter  be  did." 

Jack's  story  was,  I  regret  to  say,  true.  Poor 
"  Cracknose,"  being  anxious  to  celebrate  the  day  in  a 
manner  becoming  his  birth  and  education,  had  pro 
vided  himself  with  a  large  bottle  of  whiskey.  He  had 
partaken  so  frequently  of  his  Christmas  cheer,  however, 
that  he  was  already,  as  Jack  expressed  it,  "  drunk  as 
a  loon." 

A  howl  of  indignation  went  up  from  the  crowd  as 
Jack  finished.  It  may  be  that  the  indignation  of  some 


CHRISTMAS  MOKA/ffG—COONEY  CAMP.          lie 

of  the  boys  was  not  unmixed  with  envy  at  Smith's 
good  fortune  in  securing  the  wherewithal  to  get  "  drunk 
as  a  loon."  There  were  probably  very  few  men  in 
camp  who,  had  they  possessed  the  means,  would  not 
have  speedily  drunk  themselves  into  Smith's  condition. 
The/ had  all  enough  manhood,  however,  to  despise  one 
who  would  get  drunk  before  his  woman  and  kid,  and 
such  a  little  kid,  too.  They  certainly  believed  with 
Jack  that  Smith  deserved  a  "  humpin'  "  of  the  most 
advanced  kind. 

What  should  be  done  about  it  ?  Unconsciously  the 
men  resolved  themselves  into  a  committee  of  the 
whole  to  consider  the  matter.  It  was  a  serious  ques 
tion. 

"  I  moves,"  said  Barney,  the  logical  man  of  camp, 
"  I  moves  that  we  sends  up  a  '  fcermithy. '  ' 

"  Kermithy  be  hanged,"  put  in  Jack;  "the  only 
*  &rmithy '  yer  want  is  a  formithy  to  go  up  thar  an' 
thump  the  life  out  of  Smith,  an'  I  app'ints  myself 
as  cheerman  of  said  '  ^rmithy. '  '  Then  he  added 
quickly,  "Is  they  any  remarks?  Ef  not,  them  ez 
stands  by  it  say  aye  ! ' ' 

There  was  a  loud  chorus  of  "  aye  !"  Anything  in 
the  shape  of  a  free-fight  was  to  be  encouraged  by  all 
possible  means  in  Cooney  Camp. 

Jack  went  on,  "  Them  ez  is  agin  it  say  '  No,'  an'  I'll 
thump  their  heads  fer  them."  Not  a  word  was  said, 
and  the  motion  was  certainly  carried.  Jack's  fist  was 
too  heavy  to  admit  of  much  argument.  Some  of  the 
voters  could  hardly  see  the  practical  good  of  "  thump 
ing  the  life"  out  of  a  man  who  was  already  dead  drunk, 
but  they  were  silent  from  prudential  motives. 

Jack  "  app'inted"  Tom  and  Bill  as  other  members  of 
the  "^rmithy,"  and  the  three  worthies  started  out. 


Il6  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

The  rest  of  the  men  stood  at  the  door  of  the  shanty 
and  watched  them. 

A  bright  light  shone  from  the  window  of  Smith's 
house,  and  through  it  the  "kermithy"  stole  by  the 
corner,  and  held  a  whispered  consultation.  Then  Jack 
stepped  up  to  the  window  and  looked  in.  But  what 
was  the  matter  with  him  ?  Why  did  he  not  go  in  with 
the  "  kermithy,"  and  proceed  to  "  thump  the  life  out 
of  Smith"  ? 

He  stood  looking  in  at  the  window,  and  presently 
his  hard  old  hand  stole  up  and  took  off  the  rough  cap 
he  wore.  He  stood  without  a  covering  in  the  cold 
night  air.  This  was  too  much  for  the  endurance  of 
the  waiting  crowd.  To  be  sure  they  had  sent  the 
"  kermithy"  to  do  their  work,  but  if  its  members 
refused  to  serve,  they  must  take  the  matter  into  their 
own  hands.  As  one  man,  they  ran  as  silently  as 
possible  through  the  snow  and  looked  over  Jack's 
shoulder.  If  any  of  them  had  any  inclination  to  be 
noisy,  the  sight  that  met  their  eyes  silenced  them  in  a 
moment. 

The  same  scene  was  being  enacted,  no  doubt,  in 
thousands  of  homes  at  thai  time,  but  nowhere  under 
the  same  circumstances.  The  little  "  kid"  was  just 
going  to  bed,  and  was  kneeling,  as  children  do,  before 
her  mother  to  say  her  prayers.  At  the  back  of  the 
room  lay  Cracknose  in  a  drunken  sleep.  In  front  sat 
the  mother,  listening  to  the  little  girl,  and  correcting 
her  when  she  forgot  a  word.  The  poor  woman  had 
been  crying,  and  the  great  tears  stood  in  her  eyes,  as 
she  watched  the  small  petitioner. 

The  little  one  went  slowly  through  the  old  "  Now  I 
lay  me  down  to  sleep,"  and  then  began  a  prayer  of  her 
own,  speaking  in  her  baby  voice  so  that  the  crowd 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— COONEY  CAMP.  117 

, 

outside  could  hear  her:  "  Dod  bess  everybody,  and 
pease  let  old  Santy  Caus  put  a  dolly  in  my  stockirT— 
dood-night."  There  was  nothing  more.  The  woman 
caught  the  child  in  her  arms  and  burst  out  crying, 
while  the  audience  outside  stole  silently  back  to  the 
shanty. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken.  Jack  and  his  "  kermithy" 
had  forgotten  their  mission  of  thumping  the  life  out  of 
Smith,  and  there  was  not  a  man  in  camp  who  would 
call  upon  them  to  "  rise  and  report  progress." 

The  childish  prayer  had  touched  a  chord  in  the  hearts 
of  the  rough  lumber-men  that  had  been  long  forgotten. 
It  gave  them  all  a  new  idea  for  their  Christmas. 

The  dance  was  forgotten.  Hugh  silently  laid  his 
fiddle  away,  and  the  company  stood  waiting  for  Jack, 
the  acknowledged  leader,  to  speak. 

"  Who  is  this  yer  blame  '  Santy  '  Claus  ?"  said  he  at 
last  with  a  scowl. 

The  boys  tried  to  tell  him.  Most  of  them,  perhaps, 
had  seen  a  Christmas  tree,  and  had  watched  the  good 
old  saint  enter  with  his  bells  and  great  beard.  But 
not  one  of  them  could  explain.  They  were  like  great 
children. 

At  last,  Ira,  who,  as  the  head  of  a  large  and  con. 
stantly  increasing  family,  was  supposed  to  be  posted 
on  home  matters,  began  : 

"  Wall,  he's  a  man  ;  an  ole  man,  ye  see — " 

"Wall,"  put  in  Jack,  "he  wants  ter  bring  thet 
blame  doll-baby  ter-night,  or  I'll  lick  the  face  off  en 
him." 

"  But  ye  can't  do  it,"  argued  Ira. 

"  Can't !"  yelled  Jack.  "  Who  says  I  can't  ?  How 
big  is  he  ?  What  will  he  weigh  ?  I'll  fight  him  ef  he 
weighs  a  ton.  ' 


Ii8  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE 

"  But  ye  see,"  explained  Ira,  "  he  ain't  no  man  at 
all  ;  only  a  kinder — wall,  a  kinder  thing  ez  comes 
around  an'  fills  the  kids'  stockin's — only  he  don't  fill 
'em  at  all,  ye  see.  Ye  see  the  folks  they  puts  the 
truck  in  themselves,  an'  then  'lows  ter  the  kids  thet 
this  yer  '  Santy  '  Claus  must  hev  done  it.  The  kids 
they  kinder  takes  it  all  in,  an'  " — and  Ira  proceeded 
to  tell  all  the  simple  story. 

Old  Jack  listened  attentively.  "  An'  so  this  yer  hull 
bizness  is  a  derned  '  give'  on  thet  kid,  is  it  ?  Blame  me 
ef  it's  white  ter  swap  lies  with  sech  a  kid  ez  thet. 
Ye  jest  wait  till  I  see  inter  this  a  bit" — and  out  he 
strode  to  Smith's  cabin. 

The  crowd  wonderingly  followed  him  at  a  respectful 
distance,  and  while  he  went  in,  they  gathered  again 
outside. 

Through  the  window  they  could  see  that  the  little 
girl  had  at  last  gone  to  bed.  Her  small,  blue  stock 
ing,  patched  and  worn,  hung  from  a  nail  by  the  bed,  all 
ready  for  Santa  Claus  and  the  doll. 

Jack  came  out  at  last,  and  walked  straight  to  the 
shanty,  the  crowd  following  him.  Without  a  word  he 
pulled  on  his  coat  and  fur  cap. 

'  The  woman  says  she  ain't  gut  no  doll-baby  fer  the 
kid,  an'  ez  Santy  Claus  ain't  nut  kin  ,  I'm  jest  gonter 
fill  thet  stockin'  myself.  Who'll  walk  ter  Crystal  with 
me  an'  git  some  truck  fer  it  ?" 

Every  man  in  camp  shouted  :   "  I  will." 

"  I  don't  want  but  one  uv  ye — draw  lots,"  said  Jack. 

Thirty  little  blocks  of  wood  were  quickly  prepared, 
and  on  one  of  them  was  written  the  word  "go." 
These  were  shaken  in  a  cap,  and  it  was  agreed  that 
the  one  drawing  the  marked  block  should  accompany 
Jack. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING—COONEY  CAMP.  119 

As  a  compliment  to  hisv  supposed  literary  ability 
Frank  was  appointed  to  hold  the  hat.  The  men 
crowded  around  him,  all  anxious  to  get  a  chance  to  do 
something  for  the  "  kid." 

One  after  another  the  blocks  were  taken  out.  They 
were  all  blanks.  At  last  there  were  only  two  left  and 
Bill  and  Frank  to  draw.  Bill  drew  first  and  took  out 
a  blank.  Frank  was  to  go  with  Jack  and  act  as  Santa 
Claus.  They  pulled  on  their  rough  coats  and  hats, 
and  started  at  once. 

Crystal  was  ten  miles  away  by  the  road,  but  by  go 
ing  through  the  forest  one  mile  each  way  could  be 
saved.  Jack  determined  to  try  the  nearest  way,  and 
immediately  started  up  the  hill  into  the  forest,  leaving 
Frank  to  follow  as  best  he  could. 

The  men  stood  at  the  shanty  door,  and  watched 
them  till  they  passed  out  of  sight  under  the  trees. 

It  was  a  beautiful  night.  The  stars  were  all  out,  and 
the  moon  shone  through  the  trees,  glancing  on  the 
frost-covered  branches,  till  they  sparkled  like  diamonds. 

A  gentle  breeze  blew  softly  through  the  forest.  The 
thin- leaved  cedars  whispered  and  rustled  their  down- 
growing  branches.  The  clustering  hemlocks  held  the 
wandering  breeze  for  a  moment  to  send  it  on  again, 
freighted  with  a  rude  harmony,  while  the  great  pines 
spread  out  their  long,  needle-like,  numberless  ^Eolian 
harps  to  swell  the  grand  symphony  of  nature. 

Jack  strode  on  ahead,  like  his  namesake  of  old  who 
wore  the  seven-leagued  boots. 

How  he  did  walk  !  Logs,  stumps,  brush  were  as 
nothing  to  him.  He  plunged  and  pushed  and  dodged 
his  way  along,  ever  keeping  straight  ahead  for  Crystal. 
Frank  could  hardly  keep  him  in  sight. 

Perhaps  it  was  due  to  this  fact,  or  that  this  was  his 


120  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

first  experience  as  Santa  Claus,  that  Frank  began  to 
doubt  the  wisdom  of  the  journey.  He  began  to  fear 
that  they  had  come  on  a  very  ridiculous  errand.  Why 
should  they  walk  twenty  miles  through  the  frozen  snow 
simply  to  procure  a  "  doll  -baby"  for  that  little  girl? 
The  idea  was  absurd  !  How  much  more  comfortable 
they  would  be  in  camp  by  the  fire  ! 

Jack  seemed  to  have  been  thinking  in  much  the  same 
way,  for  he  waited  on  a  log  for  Frank  to  overtake  him. 
Then  he  began:  "  Wot  blamed  fools  we  be — ain't  we  ? 
Here  we  be  drivin'  off  here  hell-bent  fer  'lection,  jest 
fer  a  kid.  It  beats  all."  Then  he  added  apologeti 
cally,  "  Ye  see  some  blamed  fool  hez  ben  swappin'  lies 
with  thet  kid,  an'  she  takes  it  all  in  !  The  lie's  told, 
an',  hang  me,  ef  I  don't  stand  by  it.  She'll  find  out 
soon  nuff  thet  this  yer  Santy  Claus  is  a  derned  whelp, 
an'  I'm  in  for  makin'  her  think  he's  all  straight  ez  long 
ez  I  kin." 

After  this  oration  Jack  started  again,  while  Frank 
struggled  after  him  as  best  he  could. 

Rough  old  Jack  !  He  had  hardly  been  known  to  do 
a  good  deed  before  ;  what  could  have  sent  him  on 
such  a  tramp  ?  Of  what  was  he  thinking,  as  he  strug 
gled  through  the  woods  on  that  cheerless  journey  to 
Crystal  ?  Perhaps  the  words  of  the  little  "  kid"  came 
to  him  even  then,  "  Dod  bess  everybody."  Perhaps 
the  little  voice  had  wakened  in  his  tough  old  heart 
some  memory  that  had  lain  slumbering  for  years. 

At  any  rate,  in  his  rough  way,  he  had  spoken  the  right 
idea.  What  was  the  long,  cold  walk,  after  all,  to  the 
thought  that  by  taking  it  they  kept  alive  the  little  one's 
faith  in  the  old  story  of  Christmas,  and  staved  off,  for 
a  while  at  least,  the  knowledge  of  the  deceit  and  heart- 
lessness  of  the  world  ? 


CHRISTMAS  MORNIN&— COONEY  CAMP.         .121 

Presently  Jack  stopped  again.  "  This  yer  blamed 
Santy  Claus  in  this  yer  play  comes  down  the  chimbly, 
don't  he?" 

Frank  stated  that  this  was  his  favorite  way  of 
entrance. 

'  Wall,  thar  ain't  no  chimbly  ter  thet  shanty, 
nuthin'  but  a  stove-pipe.  I'll  'low  thet  I'll  jab  a  hole 
through  the  ruff  with  my  axe,  so  we  can  kerry  out  the 
hull  blamed  play." 

On  they  pressed,  mile  after  mile,  till,  at  last,  after 
climbing  an  unusually  steep  hill,  they  looked  down 
upon  a  clearing,  in  which  stood,  perhaps,  a  half  dozen 
small  houses  clustered  around  a  saw-mill.  "  Here  we 
be,"  said  Jack — "here's  Crystal." 

There  was  something  weird  and  romantic  in  the  sight 
as  they  looked  down  upon  the  little  hamlet. 

The  village  was  built  in  a  small  clearing,  which 
looked  to  the  two  representatives  of  Santa  Claus  on  the 
hill  as  if  some  huge  giant  in  his  rage  had  pulled  out  a 
great  handful  of  the  forest.  The  snow  lay  deep  on 
the  ground,  and  great  blackened  stumps  stood  all  about 
the  clearing,  like  sentinels  watching  while  the  village 
slept.  The  moonbeams  played  over  all,  bringing  out 
each  ghostly  corner  and  hole,  while  the  tall  smoke 
stack  of  the  saw-mill  rose  in  the  midst  like  a  watch- 
tower. 

But  Jack  and  Frank  had  no  time  for  such  romantic 
thoughts  as  these.  They  hurried  down  the  one  street 
of  the  village,  until  Jack  stopped  before  a  small  log- 
house,  and  began  a  vigorous  kicking  upon  its  door. 
On  a  shingle  over  this  door  Frank  read  in  black, 
straggling  letters,  "  Poste  Offis"— "  Goods  to  Traide. " 

Jack  warmed  his  toes  on  the  door,  till  above  it  a 
small  window  opened,  and  a  man's  head  appeared. 


122  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

"  Open  up,  yer  old  brute,"  roared  Jack.  The  head 
had  evidently  just  pulled  itself  out  of  bed,  and  seemed 
to  belong  to  a  very  profane  man  ;  for,  in  a  loud  voice, 
it  forcibly  informed  the  citizens  of  Crystal  that  it  hadn't 
gut  no  whiskey  ner  no  "  terbacky. " 

This  announcement  of  the  lack  of  these  two  staples 
had  but  little  effect  on  Jack.  He  shouted  back  :  "  We 
wanter  git  some  Christmas  truck,  so  open  up  yer  door, 
or  I'll  kick  it  down,"  and  he  proceeded  to  bestow 
upon  it  a  series  of  kicks  that  would  soon  have  caved 
it  in,  had  not  the  owner  profanely  agreed  to  "open 
up." 

In  a  short  time  he  appeared  at  the  door,  and  grum 
bled  as  he  bade  them  enter. 

Jack  and  Frank  passed  into  the  little  store.  But 
now,  for  the  first  time  since  the  start,  Jack  hung  back. 
He  could  walk  or  fight  or  swear  for  the  "kid,"  but 
selecting  presents  for  her  stocking  was  more  than  he 
could  do. 

He  pushed  Frank  ahead,  saying  :  "  You  know  some 
thing  about  these  things,  jest  pick  out  yer  truck,  an', 
mind  ye,  I'll  pay  fer  it." 

The  stock  of  goods  at  the  "  Crystal  Emporium"  was 
not  very  extensive.  One  could  find  plenty  of  flour  or 
sugar  or  pork,  but  the  purely  holiday  goods  were  almost 
gone. 

After  a  careful  search,  however,  Frank  found  a  few 
nuts,  an  old  Jew's-harp,  a  jumping-jack  with  only  one 
leg  which  could  possibly  be  induced  to  jump,  a  tin 
whistle  with  a  most  melancholy  sound,  and,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  a  large  orange.  There  were  also  a  few 
ounces  of  cheap  candy,  which  Frank  took  with  many 
misgivings.  He  feared  its  effect  on  the  stomach  of 
the  little  stocking-hanger.  This  was  all. 


CHRISTMAS  MO  R  XING -COO  KEY  CAMP.  123 

Jack  was  detemined  to  find  a  doll.  '  The  kid  wants 
a  doll-baby,  an'  hang  me  ef  she  don't  hev  it  ef  I  have 
to  walk  fifty  miles  fer  it." 

The  merchant  prince  of  Crystal,  evidently  anxious 
to  return  to  bed  as  quickly  as  possible,  suggested  that 
his  woman  could  "  kinder  slip  a  sorter  dress  like  onter 
the  jumpin'-jack  so  it  could  pass  fer  a  doll-baby." 

This  started  Jack's  ire  at  once.  '  Ye  don't  ring  no 
jumpin'-jack  with  one  sound  leg  off  onter  me.  I  tell 
ye  I  want  a  doll-baby  with  two  sound  legs  an'  plenty 
of  fixin's." 

Just  at  this  point  the  merchant's  wife  came  down 
stairs  to  try  and  settle  the  dispute.  She  was  such  a 
motherly-looking  person  that  Frank  took  heart  and  told 
her  the  whole  story  of  the  little  girl's  prayer,  and  her 
want  of  a  dolly. 

The  woman  was  probably  a  very  practical  person. 
She  could  hardly  have  been  otherwise,  living  as  she  did 
in  such  a  place.  But  in  every  woman's  heart  there 
lies  a  spot  that  the  smallest,  weakest  little  child  can 
touch  to  life. 

She  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  pulled  back  an 
old  blanket  which  hung  at  one  end  of  the  room,  and 
pointed  to  a  rough  bed  in  which  lay  two  children  asleep. 
Over  their  heads  hung  two  little  stockings,  crowded 
full  of  trinkets  for  them  to  see  in  the  morning. 

Jack  stood  and  looked  in  wonder.  All  he  could  say 
was,  "  Santy  Claus  done  it  !" 

The  good  woman  took  a  small  package  from  one  of 
the  stockings,  and  handed  it  to  the  astonished  Jack, 
saying  :  "  Here  is  a  doll  for  you.  It  is  the  best  we 
can  do." 

There  may  have  been  a  tear  in  her  eye  as  she  thought 
of  the  little  girl  far  away  in  the  woods,  but  this  fact  did 


124  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

not  prevent  her  genial  husband  from  remarking,  inci 
dentally,  that  the  doll  was  "  wuth  jest  about  two 
shillin's." 

Jack  and  Frank  gathered  their  treasures  and  started 
back.  They  hurried  up  the  steep  hill  into  the  forest, 
meaning  to  follow  their  track  back  to  camp. 

They  had  hardly  gone  a  mile  before  Jack  turned  to 
Frank  and  said,  "  It's  gonter  cloud  up — we  must  make 
fer  the  road  an'  foller  it  inter  camp."  Quickly  they 
turned  to  the  right,  and  struck  out  through  the  woods 
for  camp. 

But  not  quite  quick  enough.  Great  black  clouds 
came  rushing  over  the  sky,  and,  one  by  one,  the  stars 
were  hid  from  sight.  Under  the  trees  the  darkness 
was  complete. 

Jack  and  Frank  wandered  on,  as  best  they  could, 
apparently  going  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  forest, 
and  yet  unable  to  correct  their  way. 

Suddenly  Jack  fell  down  over  a  log  and  lay  with  a 
groan.  He  was  up  soon,  however.  His  hand  was  hurt 
somewhat,  and  his  leg  caught  under  a  limb.  As  he 
pulled  his  leg  away  from  its  fastening,  Frank  asked  him 
how  his  hand  felt.  "  Dern  the  hand,"  he  growled  ; 
"  wait  till  I  see  ef  thet  doll-baby  is  broke." 

The  toy  was  uninjured,  and  when  this  had  been 
ascertained,  on  they  started  once  more. 

At  last  Jack  stopped.  '  This  thing  hez  gut  ter  be 
broke.  We  kin  live  out  here  well  'nuff  till  mornin',  but 
the  p'int  is  ter  git  back  ter  fill  thet  stockin'.  Wait  till 
I  build  a  fire.  P'raps  the  boys  will  see  it." 

Jack  soon  found  a  dry  cedar,  with  which  he  quickly 
built  a  fire  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  pine.  The  flames  went 
roaring  up  into  the  air,  and  by  their  light  the  two 
Christmas  commissioners  saw  the  long-desired  road  but 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING- COONEY   CAMP.  125 

a  few  rods  away.  They  had  been  travelling  by  the  side 
of  it  in  the  wrong  direction. 

They  had  still  eight  miles  to  go,  and  tired  as  they 
were,  it  was  nearly  three  o'clock  before  they  came  in 
sight  of  camp. 

They  knew  that  the  boys  would  be  waiting  for  them 
at  the  shanty,  but  Jack  had  become  suddenly  indepen 
dent.  "  Say,  what's  the  use  fer  the  hull  crowd  ter  go 
inter  this  thing  ?  Why  not  I  an'  you  jest  do  this  work, 
an'  hev  it  did?" 

Jack's  word  in  such  a  case  was  surely  law,  and  so  the 
two  men  crept  by  the  shanty  to  the  little  house,  each 
one  a  very  guilty  Santa  Claus,  quite  unlike  his  jovial, 
happy  self. 

There  was  no  jingle  of  bells  or  pulling  in  of  reindeer, 
but  just  two  men  in  rough  clothing,  half  ashamed  of 
their  errand,  creeping  like  convicts  through  the  cold. 
They  pushed  open  the  door  of  the  rude  cabin,  and 
entered  as  silently  as  possible.  The  lamp  was  turned 
low,  and  the  fire  burned  dimly. 

Smith  lay  as  before.  His  wife  had,  perhaps,  surmised 
Jack's  errand,  and  tried  to  sit  up  for  him,  but,  worn 
out  by  watching,  she  was  sleeping  in  her  chair  by  the 
table. 

The  little  girl  lay  asleep  with  her  pretty  hair  strag 
gling  down  over  the  pillow.  Frank  filled  the  stove 
with  wood,  while  Jack  hastily  thrust  the  few  simple 
presents  into  the  stocking.  Though  he  did  not  know 
it,  he  looked  like  a  veritable  Santa  Claus  with  his 
grizzled  beard  and  rough  fur  cap. 

The  stocking  was  full,  and  yet  Jack  lingered.  The 
orange  could  not  be  induced  to  enter  the  stocking,  so 
he  laid  it  on  the  pillow  by  the  side  of  the  little  sleeper. 
Perhaps  the  child-face  on  the  pillow  was  too  much  for 


126  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

him,  for,  as  if  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  he  bent 
over  and  kissed  the  tiny  rosebud  of  a  mouth. 

The  little  one  woke  for  a  moment,  and  asked  in  her 
baby-voice,  "  Is  you  Santy  Caus  ?" 

"  No  !  be  hanged  ef  I  be,"  said  Jack,  and  then,  re 
membering  where  he  was,  he  blushed,  as  nearly  as  he 
could,  through  his  red  face. 

The  two  impersonators  of  Santa  Claus  stole  silently 
from  the  cabin.  As  they  went,  Jack  growled  in  his 
old  threatening  way,  "  If  ye  tell  the  boys  of  thet,  I'll 
lick  ye  till  ye  can't  see." 

Thus  was  the  one  stocking  filled  in  Cooney  Camp. 
Santa  Claus  did  find  his  way  over  the  rough  winding 
road,  and,  guided  by  a  strange,  tender,  and  beautiful 
power,  he  stopped  at  the  poor  cabin  on  the  hill.  What 
though  he  did  come  without  his  sleigh  or  his  bells  ! 
What  though  the  journey  left  him  weary,  cold,  and 
lame  !  He  came  and  did  his  work  and  went  his  way 
with  a  lighter  and  purer  heart  than  he  had  known  for 
years. 

The  Christmas  sun  came  dancing  over  the  tops  of  the 
trees  before  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  Cooney  Camp 
were  stirring. 

The  cook  had  been  up  for  an  hour,  working  away  in 
his  shanty  at  the  Christmas  breakfast.  He  had  not 
much  material  with  which  to  work,  but,  by  taking 
extra  care  with  his  fried  pork,  and  boiling  the  potatoes 
without  their  skins,  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  win  the 
applause  of  the  crowd.  He  had  also  a  surprise  in 
the  shape  of  several  dried-apple  pies,  with  which  he 
thought  to  achieve  a  grand  triumph. 

But  the  rest  of  the  Cooney  Campers  were  for  the 
most  part  still  in  their  bunks.  Sunday  was  always  a 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING-^COONEY  CAMP.  127 

day  of  rest.  It  was  the  great  day  for  card-playing  and 
dancing,  and  when  Christmas  came  on  the  same  day, 
they  surely  could  not  think  of  getting  up  as  early  as 
usual.  So  they  lay  in  their  bunks  and  waited  till  the 
horn  blew,  when  they  sprang  to  the  floor  and  hastily 
prepared  for  breakfast. 

Not  a  word  was  said  about  the  events  of  the  previous 
night.  There  seemed  to  be  a  tacit  agreement  that 
the  subject  should  not  be  mentioned,  yet  it  was  noticed 
after  breakfast  that  there  was  a  general  desire  to  see 
how  Smith  was  "  gittin'  over  his  drunk." 

In  delegations  of  two  and  three  the  lumbermen 
visited  his  cabin,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  on  that 
Christmas  he  received  more  visitors  than  on  any 
previous  celebration  of  the  holiday. 

The  visitors  came  back  with  wonderful  stories  of  the 
liberality  of  Santa  Claus.  It  seemed  to  be  understood 
that  they  should  ignore  entirely  their  knowle  jge  of  the 
journey  to  Crystal,  and  seek  to  carry  out  the  less  prob 
able  but  more  romantic  theory  of  Santa  Claus  and  his 
deer  and  bells. 

"I'll  be  hanged,"  said  Tom  thoughtfully,  "  ef  this 
yer  Santy  Claus  ain't  done  a  big  thing.  Talk  about 
yer  play  truck — I  tell  ye  thet  kid  hez  gut  some  ez  lays 
over  the  largest.  Leavin'  out  thet  doll-baby,  thar's  a 
figger  of  a  man  with  a  string  hangin'  down  betwixt  his 
legs,  an'  when  ye  yank  the  string,  I'm  derned  ef  the 
off  leg  won't  kick  ter  beat  all." 

The  unexpected  visit  of  the  good  old  saint  had 
started  all  the  latent  aestheticism  which  had  thus  far 
lain  dormant  in  Cooney  Camp.  There  was  a  general 
overhauling  of  old  clothes,  in  the  hope  of  rinding  a 
clean  shirt  or  a  paper  collar.  Several  of  the  men  even 
expressed  a  desire  to  shave  ;  and  at  last,  Barney,  after 


128  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

carefully  sharpening  his  knife  on  the  grindstone, 
opened  an  impromptu  barber's  shop  in  one  corner  of 
the  shanty. 

Even  old  Jack  caught  the  infection.  He  pulled  out 
from  somewhere  in  his  bunk  a  soiled  paper  collar, 
which  he  proceeded  to  pin,  with  great  gravity,  to  his 
flannel  shirt.  This,  with  a  little  sprig  of  pine  in  the 
button-hole  of  his  vest,  made  up  the  extras  of  his 
Christmas  costume.  He  made  a  desperate  effort  to 
bring  his  mop  of  hair  into  some  sort  of  shape,  but  gave 
it  up  after  a  violent  struggle. 

After  making  all  his  preparations,  he  lounged  about 
the  shanty,  evidently  ill  at  ease.  It  may  have  been  the 
paper  collar  or  the  fear  of  ridicule  from  the  boys  that 
troubled  him.  He  evidently  wished  to  go  over  to 
Smith's,  and  yet  could  hardly  summon  up  courage 
enough  to  start. 

As  a  fighter  Jack  was  supreme.  In  woodcraft  or  in 
all  the  social  qualities  which  became  lumbermen,  he 
had  no  superior  ;  but  at  making  Christmas  calls,  or  at 
framing  excuses  for  a  visit,  the  smallest  boy  could  beat 
him  easily.  He  blundered  about  to  find  some  pretence 
for  going  over  to  see  what  the  little  girl  thought  of 
Santa  Claus. 

The  other  boys  had  been  anxious  "  to  see  how  Smith 
was  gittin'  over  his  drunk,"  but  Jack  took  a  more 
probable  reason  for  going.  He  'lowed  at  last  that  he'd 
go  over  an'  see  ef  Smith  hed  drinked  up  all  his  whiskey. 
He  felt  kinder  picked,  an'  'lowed  he  could  emp't  the 
bottle  dern  soon.  It  was  a  good  sight  better  fer  a  man 
ter  drink  it  ez  hed  head  enough  ter  keep  right  side  up. 

Transparent  as  this  excuse  was,  it  was  enough  for 
the  boys.  They  said  nothing,  and  Jack,  fortifying  him 
self  with  an  immense  piece  of  tobacco,  strolled  care- 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— COONEY  CAMP.  129 

lessly  over  to  Smith's  house.  He  stopped  long  enough 
at  the  door  to  throw  a  long  stream  of  tobacco  juice 
over  the  white  snow,  and  then  pushed  it  open  and  went 
in. 

Quite  a  number  of  the  boys  were  there  already,  and 
the  little  girl  was  holding  a  regular  levee  in  one  corner. 
She  was  displaying  her  treasures  in  great  glee. 

Barney  sat  with  the  doll  carefully  held  between  two 
of  his  great  fingers.  Bill  had  the  poor  jumping-jack, 
pulling  the  string,  and  making  the  one  sound  leg 
belabor  the  air  most  violently. 

Hugh,  the  musician  of  the  camp,  was  extracting  a 
very  melancholy  tune  from  the  Jew's-harp,  while  Mike 
blew  a  doleful  blast  on  the  tin  whistle.  Mrs.  Smith, 
busy  over  the  stove,  looked  at  the  jolly  crowd,  and 
smiled  for  the  first  time  in  many  days.  Even  "  Crack- 
nose"  himself,  blear-eyed  and  weak-kneed  and  light 
headed  from  his  Christmas  celebration,  seemed  to 
catch  something  of  the  fun  and  good-will  of  the 
moment. 

Jack  nodded  gruffly  to  the  company,  and  taking  a 
stick  of  wood  from  the  pile  behind  the  stove,  made 
himself  an  impromptu  seat  against  the  wall.  He  for 
got  his  supposed  errand  in  regard  to  the  whiskey,  but 
sat  and  watched  the  group  around  the  happy  little 
"  kid"  in  the  corner. 

It  may  be  because  Jack  was  the  leader  of  the  camp, 
and  hence  deserved  more  attention,  or  it  may  be  that 
something  told  the  little  maid  that  he  was  a  relative 
of  Santa  Claus.  At  any  rate,  she  gathered  her  treasures 
in  her  apron,  and  came  and  stood  by  his  knee  to  show 
them. 

If  one  of  the  men  had  dared  to  insinuate  that  in  all 
Jack's  nature  there  was  the  least  touch  of  softness  or 


130  OUR   CHRISTMAS   IN1  A    PALACE. 

gentleness,  he  would  have  been  knocked  down  at  once. 
The  little  face  of  the  child,  however,  looking  into 
his,  saw  something  of  the  kind.  She  climbed  fearlessly 
upon  his  knee,  and  spread  out  her  presents  for  him  to 
see. 

Jack  was  in  a  most  awkward  position.  It  was  strange 
that  he  did  not  make  her  get  down.  But  there  he  sat, 
handling  the  doll  and  the  jumping-jack,  and  even  at 
tempting  a  tune  on  the  Jew's-harp. 

The  little  girl  was  loud  in  her  praise  of  Santa  Glaus. 
She  had  seen  him,  too.  She  was  awake,  she  said, 
while  he  was  filling  the  stocking,  and  had  a  good  chance 
to  see  him.  He  looked,  she  thought,  very  much  like 
Jack  himself. 

This  was,  perhaps,  the  greatest  compliment  that  the 
little  one  could  give,  but  it  almost  made  Jack  blush  for 
shame  to  think  he  was  so  near  being  discovered. 

He  made  haste  to  throw  the  "  kid"  off  the  track  by 
describing  an  imaginary  meeting  with  Santa  Claus. 
The  others  listened  with  grave  faces,  nodding  their 
heads  encouragingly  at  each  point. 

"  Ye  see,"  said  Jack,  "  I  run  onter  this  yer  Santy 
Claus  myself  last  night.  I  cum  out  of  the  shanty  about 
twelve  o'clock,  like  enuff,  an'  I  seen  a  man  climbin'  on 
the  ruff  of  yer  house.  I  'lowed  it  might  be  Santy,  so 
I  jest  slipped  behind  a  stump,  and  watched  him.  Sure 
'nuff  it  were  Santy.  He  had  a  big  kinder  bag  on  his 
back,  chuck  full  of  all  kinds  of  truck.  He  had  on  a  fur 
hat,  and  a  kinder  shirt  made  out  of  skin,  an'  a  pair  uv 
light  '  pickydilly  '  pants,  an'  a  pair  of  rubber  boots. 
He  dumb  along  the  ridge-pole,  an'  kinder  stopped  by 
the  stove-pipe  jest  like  he  wuz  comin'  down.  He 
histed  up  one  foot  an'  stuck  it  inter  the  pipe,  but  thar 
in  stuck.  It  wouldn't  go  down,  an'  Santy,  he  jest 


CHRISTMAS  MORNIN-C-COONEY  CAMP.          131 

yanked  it  out,  an*  jumped  up  an*  down,  he  wuz  ser  mad. 
Then  he  come  down  frum  the  ruff,  an'  kinder  pushed 
agin  the  door  an'  went  in.  I  'low  he  must  hev  filled 
the  stockin'  then.  Then  he  come  out  an*  started  off 
down  the  road  playin'  a  tune  on  jest  sech  a  Jew's-harp 
ez  this  one  here.  I  'low  it  must  hev  ben  the  mate 
to  it." 

The  little  girl  listened  in  open-mouthed  wonder  to 
Jack's  story,  but  Smith  amazed  the  crowd  by  begin 
ning  to  cross-question  the  narrator. 

'  Ye  sed  he  hed  on  a  fur  cap,  didn't  ye  ?" 

"Wall,  yes,  I  'low  I  sed  so  !" 

"  Did  he  hev  a  big  nose,  an'  kinder  gray  beard,  an' 
red  hair,  an'  a  pair  of  kinder  brown  pickydillies  ?" 

"  Wall,  p'raps  he  did,  an'  then  agin  p'raps  he  didn't. 
What  is  it  ter  ye  ef  he  did  or  ef  he  didn't ;  he  didn't 
hev  no  call  ter  put  truck  in  your  stockin',  did  he?" 
growled  out  Jack,  for  he  felt  that  he  was  being  pushed 
into  a  corner. 

Smith  meekly  admitted  that  4<  in  course"  it  warn't 
nothin'  ter  him,  but  he  kinder  hed  an  idee  thet  Santy 
Claus  must  hev  looked  jest  like  unto  a  man  ez  he 
knowed  onct.  The  best  feller  ter  drink  he  ever  see. 
He  had  seen  him  with  his  own  eyes  set  by  a  bar,  an' 
drink  frum  a  dozen  ter  twenty  glasses,  an'  never  git 
"  set  up."  It  beat  all  how  that  man  could  drink,  and 
Smith  sighed  as  he  thought  of  the  moral  effect  he 
might  produce  on  the  community  if  he  could  only  drink 
an  unlimited  quantity  of  whiskey  without  "  getting  set 
up." 

This  explanation  started  all  the  bile  in  Jack's  nature. 
To  think  of  associating  Santa  Claus  with  a  champion 
drinker  was  too  much,  even  for  him.  Not  that  he  was 
a  special  advocate  of  temperance.  In  fact,  if  one  had 


132  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

wished  to  give  him  a  most  particular  compliment,  he 
had  only  to  speak  of  him  as  Smith  spoke  of  his  friend. 
But  to  his  mind,  Santa  Claus  was  a  different  sort  of 
personage.  Besides,  there  was  the  danger  of  his  mix 
ing  up  his  story,  if  the  subject  was  continued. 

He  turned  on  poor  Smith  with  his  battery  of  sarcasm. 
'.'  Shet  up,  you  whelp,"  he  roared.  "  Hang  me,  ef  you 
ain't  mean  'nuff  ter  steal  corn  from  afore  a  blind  sow." 

There  was  something  so  terrible  in  this  statement, 
that  Smith  cowered  before  it. 

But  Jack  was  not  satisfied.  '  Jest  roust  out  thet 
thar  bottle  o'  yourn,  an'  I'll  larn  ye  how  ter  drink 
without  gittin'  set  up." 

Smith  dared  not  refuse,  but  at  once  produced  his 
bottle  of  Christmas  beverage  from  its  hiding-place  in 
an  old  boot  in  the  corner.  No  doubt  he  expected  to 
see  Jack  empty  it  down  his  own  throat,  yet  his  mind 
may  have  been  buoyed  up  by  the  thought  that  he 
might  possibly  get  some  little  insight  into  the  secret 
of  his  drinking  friend's  endurance.  Jack  grasped  the 
bottle,  but  instead  of  drinking  from  it,  he  walked  out 
of  the  door,  and  deliberately  broke  it  over  a  log.  Then, 
casting  contemptuously  upon  the  fragments  a  quantity 
of  tobacco  juice,  he  walked  back  to  the  door  to  give 
Smith  a  little  wholesome  advice.  "  Look  here, 
'  Cracknose,'  ef  ye  want  ter  larn  the  trick  of  drinkin* 
without  gittin'  set  up,  jest  hump  up  yer  back  an'  go 
down  ter  thet  spring  an'  drink  all  ye  kin.  A  little 
more  of  thet  spring  water  inside  an'  outside  will  do  ye 
a  blamed  sight  more  good  than  harm — ye  hear?" 

After  delivering  this  temperance  lecture,  Jack  thrust 
his  hands  into  his  pockets  and  walked  unconcernedly 
off  to  the  cook's  shanty.  Here,  his  first  act  was  to  divest 
himself  of  the  paper  collar.  "  These  yar  harness,"  he 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— COONEY  CAMP.  133 

remarked,  "  is  likely  ter  raise  collar  biles  on  my  neck." 
Frank  sat  writing  at  the  greasy  table.  It  was  always 
a  wonder  to  the  boys  how  he  could  write  so  many 
letters.  To-day  he  was  unusually  busy.  Perhaps  the 
thought  that  this  was  Christmas  day  started  many 
pleasant  memories,  or  it  may  be  that  the  journey  of  the 
night  before  had  given  him  a  pleasant  theme.  At  any 
rate,  he  wrote  on,  covering  page  after  page  of  paper. 
Jack  watched  him  in  silence  for  awhile,  and  then  broke 
in  with  :  "  Who  ist  ye  write  to  ser  much  ?  Hang  me,  ef 
ye  don't  sling  more  ink  than  a  district  school.  Must 
hev  more  gals  than  a  dry-goods  clerk.  I  s'pose  yer 
quite  a  master  among  the  wimmin,  ain't  ye  ?" 

Frank  was  obliged  to  confess  that  his  knowledge  of 
the  habits  and  feelings  of  the  sex  was  somewhat 
limited. 

"  Wall,  what  I  wuz  thinkin'  on  wuz  this.  It  kinder 
strikes  me  thet  this  yer  doll-baby  'thet  us  two  derned 
fools  brung  from  Crystal  last  night  is  a  blamed  sight 
too  slim  fer  sech  a  kid.  I'd  like  ter  git  a  doll-baby 
with  fillygrees  an'  fixin's.  Now,  ef  you  knows  any 
wimmin  ez  kin  give  us  some  p'ints  on  sech  things,  why 
can't  ye  jest  line  out  the  idees  and  draw  out  the  p'ints. 
Then  we  kin  kinder  keep  the  thing  hot,  an'  cook  up 
some  lie  about  meetin'  Santa  Claus  agin  an'  gittin' 
another  doll-baby  out  of  him." 

The  cook  came  in  just  then,  and  Jack  moved  away 
as  if  ashamed  of  his  errand.  But  Frank  wrote  the 
letter  to  his  mother,  not  asking  for  "p'ints,"  but 
simply  telling  the  story  of  how  he  acted  as  Santa 
Claus. 

Two  weeks  had  gone  by  since  Santa  Claus  came 
wandering  into  Cooney  Camp,  and  aired  his  "  picky- 


134  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

dillies"  on  the  roof  of  Smith's  cabin.  The  visit  of  the 
good  old  saint  was  almost  forgotten  by  most  of  the 
boys.  Many  weighty  things  had  happened  in  the 
mean  time. 

The  little  "  kid"  remembered  him,  however,  though 
time  had  made  sad  havoc  with  the  presents  he  left. 
The  candy  and  orange  had  long  since  gone  the  way  of 
their  kind,  and,  revengeful  as  Such  things  are  apt  to  be, 
had  made  the  little  stocking-hanger  sick  in  going. 
The  jumping-jack  had  kicked  his  one  sound  leg  com 
pletely  off,  and  now  viewed  the  world  with  a  most  mel 
ancholy  countenance  from  the  little  shelf  over  the 
bed.  Santa  Claus  himself  could  hardly  have  extracted 
a  tune  from  the  Jew's-harp,  while  '  Cracknose"  had 
accidently  stepped  on  the  tin  whistle,  and  thus  reduced 
its  former  note  to  a  squeak.  The  poor  little  "doll- 
baby"  had  fallen  and  broken  her  nose  off,  much  to  the 
sorrow  of  the  little  "  kid,"  who  shed  many  tears  over 
the  misfortunes. 

The  worthy  citizens  of  Cooney  Camp  were  partaking 
of  their  early  Sunday  supper.  The  great  mountains 
of  beans  and  salt  pork  which  had  confronted  them  at 
the  beginning  of  the  meal  had  gone  down  before  their 
active  knives  and  forks. 

But  a  silence,  entirely  new  to  the  occasion,  hung 
over  the  party.  The  faces  of  many  of  the  men  were 
dark  with  wrath. 

The  denizens  of  Cooney  Camp  felt  that  if  any  part 
of  their  etiquette  was  praiseworthy  at  all,  it  was  their 
conduct  at  table.  They  fully  believed  in  the  physio 
logical  proposition  that  good  nature  and  good  diges 
tion  go  hand  in  hand.  A  flow  of  delicate  and  refined 
wit  could  be  always  observed  at  their  meals.  Eating 
contests  were  largely  encouraged,  and  the  bare  walls 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— COONEY  CAMP.  135 

of  the  cook's  shanty  had  looked  down  on  many  a 
gastronomic  triumph. 

The  Sunday  meal  had  heretofore  been  particularly 
lively.  News  of  the  week  and  many  pleasant  little 
anecdotes  were  always  retailed  for  the  benefit  of  the 
company. 

But  now  the  men  sat  with  glum  faces,  and  ate  their 
meal  in  silence.  They  felt  that  they  had  been 
imposed  upon.  The  shadow  of  a  great  sorrow  had 
fallen  upon  them,  and  they  had  just  received  fresh  and 
most  direct  evidence  that  this  world  is  all  a  fleeting 
show. 

Three  days  before,  the  supply  teamster  had  brought 
into  camp  a  box  marked  :  "  Miss  Julia  Watson,  care 
of  T.  Smith,  Cooney  Camp." 

The  box  was  simple  enough  in  its  way,  but  it  fell  like 
a  shell  into  the  social  life  of  the  camp.  The  excite 
ment  was  raised  to  fever-heat  when  the  teamster  in 
formed  the  crowd  that  the  owner  of  the  box  would 
follow  it  on  Sunday. 

"Miss  Julia  Watson,  care  of  T.  Smith!"  The 
lumbermen  studied  the  address  carefully.  Perhaps 
they  expected  to  obtain  some  information  from  the 
shaky  black  letters  written  on  the  cover.  The 
society  of  young  and  beautiful  ladies  was  in  active 
demand  in  Cooney  Camp.  By  a  series  of  original 
arguments  and  inferences,  the  lumbermen  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  "  Miss  Julia  Watson"  must  be 
both  young  and  beautiful. 

That  she  was  young  was  sufficiently  proved  by  the 
fact  that  she  was  a  "miss."  The  genus  "spinster" 
was  entirely  unknown  to  Cooney  Camp. 

I  do  not  know  how  they  proved  the  other  quality. 
Perhaps  there  was  something  in  the  namet  Ever  since 


136  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Romeo  risked  his  foolish  neck  climbing  up  to  Juliet's 
window,  the  name  of  Julia  has  suggested  both  love 
and  loveliness.  The  Cooney  campers  were  probably 
not  very  thorough  students  of  Shakespeare,  but  still 
there  was  something  about  the  name  that  pleased  them. 
Considerable  curiosity  was  developed  as  to  who 
"  T.  Smith"  might  be.  This  curiosity  was,  however, 
dispelled  by  the  appearance  of  "  Cracknose,"  who 
shouldered  the  box  and  started  with  it  for  his  cabin. 
This  action  tended  to  spread  abroad  the  fact  that  to 
the  somewhat  plebeian  name  of  Smith  he  had  joined 
the  more  aesthetic  name  of  Theodore. 

Not  a  word  could  "  Cracknose"  be  induced  to  say  in 
regard  to  the  lady's  appearance.  She  was  simply  a 
relative  who  was  coming  up,  as  he  said,  to  see  his 
"  woman."  There  was  a  sly  twinkle  in  his  eye,  unper- 
ceived  by  the  boys,  as  he  gravely  announced  that  ef  the 
boys  wuz  a  mind  ter  hustle  round  an'  kinder  slick  up, 
one  on  'em  mought  stand  a  good  show. 

This  information  was  enough  to  set  the  boys  on  their 
mettle  at  once.  Such  a  washing  and  shaving  and 
arraying  in  paper  collars  and  clean  shirts  had  never  be 
fore  been  seen  in  camp.  The  visit  of  Santa  Glaus  was 
nothing  compared  to  this. 

Barney  and  Bill  even  went  so  far  as  to  engage  in  a 
fight  for  the  possession  of  a  paper  collar.  Though 
Barney  at  last  secured  possession  of  the  coveted  article, 
the  black  eye  he  received  in  obtaining  it  tended  to 
neutralize  the  general  effect  it  produced. 

Nearly  an  hour  before  the  time  for  the  supply  team, 
the  boys  gathered  in  front  of  the  shanty,  to  give  as 
much  dignity  as  possible  to  the  reception  of  the  com 
ing  belle  of  Cooney  Camp. 

Some  of  the  more  poetic  suggested  the  erection  of 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— COONEY  CAMP.  137 

an  arch  of  green  boughs  over  the  road,  but  the  pro 
posal  did  not  meet  with  popular  favor. 

The  air  of  restraint  that  hangs  over  every  formal 
reception  gradually  wore  away,  and  the  free  and  easy 
style  of  Cooney  Camp  returned.  The  boys  relieved 
the  tedium  of  their  waiting  by  betting  upon  the  general 
appearance  of  the  lady. 

"I'll  bet  ye,"  began  Tom,  "  thet  she'll  show  up 
with  yaller  hair  an'  a  pick-ed  nose."  There  was  some 
who  differed  with  Tom.  They  seemed  to  be  of  the 
opinion  that  the  young  lady  would  appear  with  black 
hair.  Others  were  positive  that  her  nose  would  be 
short,  or,  as  they  graphically  expressed  it,  "  stubbed." 
It  is  my  opinion  that  each  one  unconsciously  described 
his  own  ideal  of  feminine  loveliness.  Tom's  Venus- 
like  description  of  "  yaller  hair  an'  a  pick-ed  nose" 
seemed  to  suit  the  majority. 

Jack  was  the  only  man  in  camp  who  looked  with 
undisguised  contempt  upon  the  whole  affair. 

Possibly  he  feared  that  the  newcomer  would  absorb 
much  of  the  attention  now  given  to  the  little  "  kid." 
He  was  on  the  point  of  giving  a  sarcastic  description 
of  the  charms  of  the  newcomer,  when  the  supply  team 
came  slowly  under  the  two  trees  that  stood  where  the 
road  entered  the  forest.  Sure  enough,  on  the  seat  by 
the  driver  was  a  woman. 

The  expectant  crowd  waited  till  the  wagon  slowly 
rolled  over  the  rough  road  and  came  to  a  halt  before 
them. 

The  belle  of  Cooney  Camp  had  come. 

A  thin  woman,  wrinkled  and  bent,  sat  on  the  seat  of 
the  wagon,  and  looked  feebly  about  her.  There  was 
something  pitiful  and  yet  ludicrous  in  the  sight. 

The  boys  were  too  much  overcome  to  speak.     Bill 


138  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

could  only  mutter,  "  Bewegonter  start  a  bone  yard  up 
here  ?"  Jack  laughed  at  the  discomfiture  of  the  boys, 
and  "  Cracknose,"  with  a  "Howdy,  Aunt  Jule  ?" 
stepped  forward  and  helped  the  old  lady  from  the 
wagon. 

Her  greeting  was  characteristic.  She  looked  at 
"  Cracknose"  critically  for  a  moment,  and  then 
remarked  thoughtfully,  "  It  don't  'pear  to  me  thet 
yer  nose  looks  quite  ser  bad  ez  it  did,  though  p'raps  it 
is  because  I  ain't  gut  my  glasses  on." 

Smith  received  the  delicate  compliment  in  silence, 
and  at  once  led  the  way  to  his  own  cabin. 

It  was  a  critical  moment  in  the  history  of  Cooney 
Camp.  The  boys  were  a  little  undecided  what  to 
do.  Should  they  march  in  a  body  and  mob  the  whole 
Smith  family,  or  should  they  show  their  displeasure  in 
some  more  forcible  way  ? 

Luckily,  at  this  moment  the  cook  blew  a  violent 
blast  on  the  supper  horn,  and,  impelled  by  the  force  of 
habit,  the  irate  reception  committee  fell  in  and  marched 
to  the  shanty. 

As  we  before  stated,  the  meal,  so  far  as  conversation 
was  concerned,  was  a  dire  failure.  It  is  hard,  however, 
for  a  man  with  a  full  stomach  to  retain  his  anger  long. 
The  greatest  hate  and  the  most  complete  disappoint 
ment  can  seldom  stand  before  a  good  dinner. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  meal  the  boys  came  to  see 
something  of  the  joke  of  the  affair,  and  one  or  two  even 
ventured  to  laugh  with  Jack. 

They  were  about  attacking  an  instalment  of  dried- 
apple  pies,  when  "Cracknose"  came  in  with  a  small 
package  in  his  hand. 

'The  ole  lady,"  he  stated,  "hed  this  yer  bundle 
gin  her  ter  be  brought  out,  jest  ez  the  team  started. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING -  COONE  Y  CAMP.          139 

Tears  like  it  must  be  fer  you,"  and  he  handed  the 
package  to  Frank.  Then,  seeing  the  angry  eyes  of  the 
crowd  fixed  upon  him,  he  rightly  inferred  that  his 
presence  could  be  easily  dispensed  with,  and  slipped 
out  of  the  door. 

Frank  looked  at  the  bundle  curiously.  It  had  come 
all  the  way  from  Boston.  The  boys  watched  him  as  he 
cut  the  string  and  took  off  the  paper. 

"  I  'low  somebody's  sent  ye  a  box  of  cigars.  / 
smoke  onct  or  twict  a  year,"  suggested  Bill. 

The  paper  taken  off  disclosed  a  long  pasteboard  box. 
Frank  wonderingly  removed  the  cover,  and  revealed 
to  the  astonished  eyes  of  the  crowd  a  beautiful  doll 
dressed  in  the  very  height  of  fashion,  and  apparently 
smiling  sweetly  at  the  rough  faces  gathered  about  it. 

A  little  folded  slip  of  paper  lay  in  the  box.  Frank 
opened  it,  and  read  :  "  For  the  little  girl  in  the  camp 
who  prayed  Santa  Glaus  to  send  her  a  dolly."  The 
little  one's  prayer  had  been  heard.  A  far  gentler 
Santa  Claus  than  he  who  toiled  wearily  into  camp  on 
Christmas  morning  had  been  commissioned  to  fill  the 
little  stocking  again. 

Hundreds  of  miles  from  the  rough  camp  the  story 
of  the  little  "  kid"  had  touched  a  woman's  heart.  The 
"  wimmen"  had  sent  Jack  "  p'ints"  with  good  effect. 
Perhaps  even  while  the  little  "  kid"  was  praying  in  the 
rough  cabin,  she  who  had  sent  the  doll  was  listening 
to  her  own  little  ones  as  they  sleepily  murmured  the 
same  little  prayer.  Perhaps  she  sat  watching  them 
after  they  had  fallen  asleep,  not  with  tearful  eyes  like 
her  who  watched  beside  that  little  one  in  the  forest, 
but  with  a  happy,  thankful  heart.  It  may  be  that  He, 
who  heard  both  prayers,  answered  by  moving  her  to 
fill  the  little  blue  stocking.  Perhaps  all  our  prayers  are 


140  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

answered  thus.  Would  that  we  could  believe  it  ! 
Would  that  we  all  could  have  the  faith  of  that  little 
child  ! 

When  the  box  was  opened,  there  was  an  astonished 
silence  for  a  moment.  Such  a  sight  had  never  before 
been  seen  in  Cooney  Camp.  The  doll  was  taken  out 
and  carefully  handed  about  for  inspection. 

In  the  bottom  of  the  box  were  a  few  little  picture- 
books.  These  were  seized  by  the  more  literary 
members  of  the  crowd,  who  explained  the  pictures  for 
the  benefit  of  the  less  educated.  The  big  men  were 
like  children  with  a  new  toy. 

"  I'll  be  hanged,  "shouted  Tom,  "  ef  there  ain't  a 
picter  of  a  young  lad  ez  hez  dumb  up  ter  the  top  of  a 
high  pump  fer  ter  drink  out  frum  the  nizzle." 

Sure  enough  they  could  all  see  it. 

"But,"  put  in  Barney,  "do  ye  mind  the  other 
young  lad  with  his  holt  on  the  handle  unbeknownst  ter 
the  other?"  And  the  crowd  laughed  in  great  glee  at 
the  thought  of  the  ducking  the  first  boy  would  receive. 

But  the  doll,  after  all,  was  the  great  centre  of  attrac 
tion.  The  little  red  dress  and  cape,  the  blue  eyes  and 
the  hair,  to  use  Jack's  expression,  "  kinder  gut  away 
with  a  carpet  store." 

After  the  toy  had  been  handed  about  for  a  while, 
Jack  suggested  that  it  was  time  to  "  call  it  in." 

He  placed  it  carefully  in  the  box,  and  announced  his 
intention  of  taking  it  over  to  the  "  kid"  at  once. 

"  Ye  see,"  he  argued,  "  I  hev  ben  swappin'  lies  with 
the  kid  afore,  an'  I  kin  kinder  keep  the  thing  hot.  I'll 
tell  the  story,  an'  don't  one  of  ye  say  a  word  or  I'll 
lick  him." 

No  one  was  disposed  to  question  Jack's  right  to  the 
position  of  spokesman. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNTW6—COONEY  CAMP.  141 

Free  thought  and  free  speech  are  two  great  ele 
ments  of  our  national  freedom  ;  but  when  such  a  fist 
as  Jack's  is  held  in  front  of  him,  one  is  willing  to  look 
upon  them  as  the  fox  regarded  the  grapes. 

With  Jack  at  their  head,  the  men  adjourned  to 
Smith's  cabin.  Those  who  could,  crowded  into  the 
room,  while  the  others  looked  in  at  the  door  and 
windows. 

The  antiquated  "  miss"  had  evidently  just  been  giv 
ing  the  family  an  account  of  her  journey. 

Perhaps  she  looked  upon  the  sudden  arrival  of  the 
delegation  as  something  in  the  light  of  a  popular 
reception  extended  by  the  citizens  of  Cooney  Camp  to 
her. 

In  order  the  more  fully  to  show  her  appreciation  of 
the  good-will  of  the  company,  she  made  haste  to  put 
on  her  "  glasses,"  and  through  them  she  viewed  Jack 
with  undisguised  admiration,  which  tended  to  em 
barrass  him  exceedingly. 

The  admiring  glance  of  a  lady's  eye  was  enough  by 
itself  ;  but  when  it  was  magnified  by  passage  through 
the  convex  lens  of  a  pair  of  "  glasses,"  to  use  his  own 
expression,  it  "  gut  away"  with  him. 

He  began  his  remarks  by  saying  that  he  'lowed  he 
warn't  so  derned  small  thet  it  tuck  four  eyes  ter  see 
him.  Ef  he  wuz,  he'd  grow  a  little. 

This  delicate  intimation  had  the  desired  effect.  The 
"  glasses"  were  removed. 

Jack  then  proceeded  : 

'  Ye  see  when  I  ketched  this  yer  Santy  Glaus  on  the 
ruff  here  a  couple  of  weeks  ago,  I  didn't  say  nuthin', 
but  it  seemed  to  me  thet  the  doll-baby  he  sent  wuz 
pretty  blamed  slim.  He  had  a  big  bag  on  his  back,  an' 
I  see  him  sortin'  out  his  truck.  Thar  wuz  lots  of  big 


142  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

doll-babies  thar  with  rale  hair  an'  all  the  fillygrees. 
T'warn't  none  of  my  bizness,  but  I  sez  ter  myself,  ef  I 
ever  see  him  agin,  I'll  jest  tech  him  up  a  bit.  I  wuz 
out  in  the  woods  ter-day,  an',  hang  me,  ef  I  didn't 
come  plumb  onter  him.  I  knowed  him  by  his  picky- 
dilly  pants.  I  jest  went  up  an'  sez,  '  Hev  yer  gut  any 
terbacker  ? '  He  sed  he  had,  an'  opens  his  bag  ter  find 
some.  When  he  opens  it  I  see  inside  ez  fine  a  doll- 
baby  ez  ever  wuz  growed.  I  made  up  an'  told  him 
jest  how  the  thing  stood,  an',  I'll  be  hanged,  ef  he  didn't 
do  the  square  thing.  He  jest  yanked  out  thet  doll- 
baby  an*  gin  it  ter  me.  He  sed  he  hed  a  long  walk 
afore  him,  an'  kinder  asked  me  ef  I  wouldn't  brung  it 
round.  I  told  him  I  would,  an',  hang  me,  ef  it  ain't 
here,"  and  Jack  placed  the  box  in  the  little  "  kid's" 
hands,  and  then  deliberately  walked  out  of  the 
cabin. 

Most  of  the  crowd  followed  him,  but  one  or  two, 
anxious  to  see  what  the  little  "  kid"  would  do,  peeped 
in  at  the  window. 

The  little  one  opened  the  box  with  wondering  eyes, 
which  grew  wider  at  the  sight  of  the  doll. 

As  a  woman  takes  her  baby  to  her  breast,  so  the  lit 
tle  "  kid"  gathered  the  toy  in  her  arms,  and  hugged 
it  as  she  rocked  back  and  forth  in  her  chair. 

At  last  she  looked  up  and  saw  on  the  shelf  over  the 
bed  the  mutilated  face  of  the  other  dolly  looking 
sorrowfully  upon  her.  She  laid  the  larger  doll  on  the 
floor  while  she  climbed  on  the  bed  and  took  the  smaller 
one  from  its  place.  When  she  sat  down  again,  she 
held  both  of  them. 

Just  after  dark,  Jack  came  in  again,  pretending  that 
he  wished  to  see  Smith  about  an  axe. 

The  little  girl  sat  with  tears  in  her  eyes,   looking 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING^-COONEY  CAMP.  143 

wistfully  at  the  new  dolly  perched  upon  the  wall  above 
the  looking-glass. 

The  '"  belle"  noticed  Jack's  look  of  wonder,  and 
made  haste  to  explain. 

'  Ye  see,  I  kinder  thought  the  little  gal  might  sile 
the  doll's  dress,  an'  then  it  looked  kinder  pert  on  the 
wall,  so  I  thought  I'd  stick  it  up  there,  an'  let  her  set 
an'  look  at  it." 

For  a  moment  J  ack  was  speechless  with  anger.  Then 
he  took  down  the  doll  and  gave  it  to  the  little  girl. 

Then,  actually  shaking  his  fist  in  the  face  of  the  old 
lady,  he  fairly  roared  with  more  force  than  elegance  : 
14  Ef  yer  stick  thet  doll-baby  up  thar  agin,  I'll  wring 
yer  neck !" 

The  doll  never  went  to  the  wall  again. 

When  the  child  went  to  bed  that  night  she  took  her 
dolly  with  her.  Just  as  the  little  eyes  were  closing  in 
sleep,  she  murmured  half  to  herself,  "  Dod  bess 
Santy  Caus  for  sendin'  my  dolly." 

And  Santa  Claus  will  be  blessed. 

I  wish  I  could  close  this  story  by  telling  how  this 
little  incident  started  a  permanent  reform  in  camp. 
Most  stories  end  in  this  way,  but  mine  cannot. 

Jack  and  Bill  and  Tom  and  all  the  rest  went  back  to 
their  old  ways.  They  drank  and  swore  and  fought  as 
hard  as  ever,  and  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  they 
were  all  made  better  and  purer  in  some  way  by  that 
little  girl's  prayer  and  its  answer. 

The  oftener  the  tender,  diviner  chords  of  our  being 
are  touched,  the  more  easily  will  they  stir  in  sympathy 
for  others. 

The  little  "  kid"  will  not  forget  that  Christmas  eve, 
nor  the  present  Santa  Claus  sent  by  Jack. 


144  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Ah  !  if  we  only  knew  the  pleasure  and  comfort  we 
might  give  by  a  single  kind  word  or  look  or  generous 
act !  If  we  only  knew  of  the  thousands  of  human  be 
ings  who  only  need  the  kindly  and  gentle  impulse  to 
lead  them  to  purer  and  better  lives,  we  might  still  act 
a  Santa  Claus,  and  make  life  one  perpetual  Christmas, 
more  merry  even  than  the  celebration  at  Cooney 
Camp. 

But  we  cannot,  for  our  eyes  are  blinded. 

Everybody  thanked  George  Hackmatack  when  he 
was  done. 

Every  one  felt  how  exactly  the  story  belonged  to 
their  party,  blocked  in  as  they  were. 

Old  lumbermen  were  there,  on  their  way  down  from 
the  Rockies.  They  saw  how  true  the  little  story  is  to 
man  and  to  nature. 

And  I  dare  not  say  how  many  of  the  women  were 
crying. 

Mr.  Van  Sandfoord  gave  time  enough  for  talk,  for 
questions  and  for  sympathy,  and  then  pretended  to 
consult  the  great  placard  of  the  programme,  of  which 
the  first  sheet  was  pinned  beside  him,  big  enough  for 
those  that  ran  to  read. 

"  Mrs.  Frechette  will  favor  us  with  a  ballad." 

The  little  woman  did  not  flinch  an  instant. 

"The  committee  had  no  right  to  ask  me  for  an 
original  ballad,"  said  she.  "  I  never  write  ballads, 
and  Tom  does  not.  But  I  will  sing  an  old  Yankee 
ballad,  which  I  learned  on  Thanksgiving  day  from  a 
real  Mayflower  girl.  She  says  the  people  in  Plymouth 
County — I  think  that  is  the  place — knew  what  the 
time  was  some  two  hundred  years  ago  or  less.  You 
must  all  join  in  the  chorus." 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— A   BALLAD.  145 

And  with  great  spirit  she  sang  : 

"  'Twas  up  to  Uncle  Tracy's, 

The  fifth  of  November, 
Last  Thanksgiving  night, 

As  I  very  well  remember  : 
And  there  we  had  a  frolic, 

A  frolic,  indeed, 
And  drank  several  glasses 

Of  good  anise-seed. 

"  And  there  was  Parson  Holmes, 

And  there  was  Perez  Drew, 
And  there  was  Seth  Gilbert, 

And  Seth  Thomas,  too  ; 
And  there  were  too  many, 

Too  many  for  to  name, 
And  by  and  by  I'll  tell  you  how 

We  carried  on  the  game. 

4  We  carried  on  the  game 

Till  'twas  late  in  the  night — 
There  was  one  pretty  girl 

And  she  lost  her  eye-sight. 
No  wonder — no  wonder — 

No  wonder,  indeed, 
For  she  drank  three  full  glasses 

Of  good  anise-seed." 


She  sang  the  quaint  old  air  so  merrily  and  she 
commanded  the  rest  so  instinctively  that  they  caught 
it  quickly,  and  sang  the  last  half  of  each  verse  with 
her. 

Amid  general  laughing  she  turned  to  Mr.  Decker, 
and  said  : 

'  That  is   the   way    your    Yankee    ancestors    kept 
Thanksgiving,    Mr.   Decker,   before  Nahum  Barrow's 


146  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

time.     I  do  not  know  what  anise-seed  is.     It  shov/t 
how  things  are  improved,  that  I  do  not." 

And  so  they  hummed  the  air,  and  taught  each  other 
the  words,  till  Hector,  in  his  stentorian  way,  shouted  : 
"Number  three." 

AN  ORATION  BY  MR.  MENET. 

11 1  am  a  wretched  public  speaker,"  said  Mr.  Menet, 
"  when  my  wife  is  not  by  me  to  prompt  me.  So  soon 
as  I  saw  the  programme  I  was  frightened,  and  have 
been  ever  since.  I  once  delivered  a  Fourth-of-July 
oration  in  Spanish  to  my  workmen.  But  last  night  I 
found,  first,  that  I  could  not  alter  the  allusions  to  inde 
pendence  in  time,  and,  next,  that  I  had  forgotten  the 
oration.  So  I  throw  myself  on  your  mercy,  and  ask 
leave  to  tell  a  story." 

They  all  cried,  "  Story  !  story  !  story  !" 

"Well,"  said  Menet,  laughing,  "next  I  thought 
to  tell  really  a  curious  story  of  something  which 
happened  at  a  Christmas  dinner  I  was  at  in  Paris." 

Here  all  four  of  the  palace  ladies  showed  danger  sig 
nals  ;  for  they  all  blushed  scarlet,  conscious  that  they 
knew  that  story  well.  But  Menet  did  not  notice,  and 
went  on. 

"  But  that  is  really  rather  too  personal.  And  so  I 
have  been  mean  enough  to  go  forward  to  the  news 
boy's  box.  I  gave  him  a  bit  of  money,  and  he  let  me 
dig  there.  I  mention  this  because  I  scorn  to  lie,  and 
I  have  pre-empted  that  box,  and  no  one  else  is  to 
burrow  there.  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  to  read  you  a 
story  called  "Christmas  at  Valley  Forge, "  which  I 
found  in  his  box,  and  I  venture  to  say  to  Mr.  Decker 
that  the  hero  is  not  my  grandfather. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING—VALLEY  FORGE.          14? 

So  Mr.  Menet  read,  and  read  very  well,  from  an  old 
Frank  Leslie,  the  story  of 

CHRISTMAS  AT  VALLEY  FORGE. 

THANKSGIVING    DAY. 

'There,"  said  Elam  Ford,  swinging  himself  down 
from  a  heavy  wooden  table  on  which  he  had  been 
standing,  "  I'll  stump  all  the  dogs  in  the  haven  to 
push  her  open  now  !"  and  the  squad  of  lazy  soldiers 
around  him  rang  applause  and  approval  of  the  success 
of  an  enterprise  for  which  none  but  Elam  had  the 
spirit. 

"  Elam  means  to  have  one  hull  turkey  for  himself, 
and  he's  afraid  the  dogs  will  get  part  of  his  share." 

"  Or  the  cats  !"  growled  another  of  the  squad,  and 
a  general  laugh  saluted  the  jest,  which  contained  an 
allusion  to  some  wretched  mess  anecdote. 

Nobody  laughs  so  easily  as  boys  or  girls  off  duty. 

"  Well,"  said  Elam,  "  I  said  last  night,  I  did,  ses  I, 
when  old  spitfire  there  came  sneaking  up  from  the 
cellar,  and  poked  his  nose  in,  and  then  came  in  him 
self,  I  says,  says  I,  I  did,  I'll  be  darned  if  I  don't  get 
the  trunnion  of  the  gun  we  bust,  and  hang  it  fur  a 
weight  to  that  'ere  door,  and  I'll  be  darned  if  I  lie  here 
all  night  and  have  dogs  and  cats  and  weasels  and 
kittens  and  puppies  smellin'  over  my  bunk,  cos  Enos 
or  Jotham  or  Micah  or  any  of  you  fellers  was  so  stupid 
you  could  not  latch  the  cellar-door.  I  said  I  would, 
and  I've  gone  and  done  it." 

And  with  one  last  loving  touch  he  tested  his  handi 
work. 

He  swung  the  door  open,  and  the  pulley  weight  of  the 
heavy  trunnion  banged  it  to  with  a  force  that  shook  the 
whole  cabin  from  ground-sill  to  roof-tree. 


148  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

It  was  a  wretched  hole  at  the  best.  It  was  a  log 
cabin,  which  this  squad  of  men  had  built  for  them 
selves  as  the  winter  came  on. 

The  English  army,  under  Howe,  was  taking  its  ease 
in  Philadelphia  ;  and  Washington  on  the  Wissahickon 
Creek  and  the  Schuylkill  River  was  watching  them, 
and  occasionally  making  a  stroke  at  a  foraging  party. 

The  particular  party  with  which  we  are  concerned 
had  been  sent  up  to  inspect  a  ford  of  the  larger  river, 
and,  eventually,  to  throw  up  a  redoubt  which  should 
command  it. 

They  had  made  themselves  as  comfortable  as  they 
could  by  building  this  cabin  for  their  quarters. 

In  the  hole  below,  dignified  by  the  name  of  ' '  cellar, ' ' 
or  "  suller,  "as  the  reader  chooses  to  take  the  English 
or  the  Yankee  pronunciation,  they  had  such  stores  of 
potatoes,  of  cabbages,  and  of  salt  pork  as  the 
commissariat  or  their  own  vigorous  foraging  provided. 

Bunks,  in  which  they  slept,  were  arranged  around 
the  walls  ;  a  fixed  table  with  benches  on  each  side 
occupied  the  middle  of  the  cabin,  and  a  fire,  which 
would  have  served  Cyclops,  blazed  at  one  end. 

'  We  can't  do  nothin'  more  about  dinner,"  said 
Elam,  who  was  evidently  the  most  energetic  person  in 
the  party,  "  till  Siah's  off  and  Michael." 

And  after  looking  out  at  the  open  door,  he  turned 
back  a  little  dissatisfied. 

44  In  theyre,  pinkin'  and  foolin',  'n  powderin'  their 
hair,  most  likely,  for  the  general's  party,  and  the 
womenfolks  there.  There's  that  poor  mare  looks  'zif 
she'd  freeze,  while  Michael's  puttin'  more  pomatum  on 
his  queue." 

Another  general  guffaw  saluted  this  irreverent  allu 
sion  to  an  officer. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNINti— VALLEY  FORGE.          149 

For  "  Josiah"  and  "  Michael,"  as  Elam  called  them, 
were  the  captain  and  lieutenant  in  command  of  the 
outpost. 

They  were  old  companions  in  school  and  in  play  of 
the  men  whom  they  were  supposed  to  command. 

It  was  by  a  severe  strain  that  the  traditional 
decencies  of  English  and  German  armies  had  been  so 
far  preserved  that  they  had  a  different  cabin  from 
those  occupied  by  the  men. 

It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  the  men  were 
held  to  any  tokens  of  outward  respect  on  drill  or 
parade. 

When  the  boys  were  by  themselves  the  officers  were 
plain  "  Michael  "  and  "  Josiah"  again. 

To-day  the  officers  were  going  to  eat  their  Thanks 
giving  dinner  with  General  Knox  at  his  headquarters, 
and  at  this  moment  the  mice  were  waiting  for  the 
cats  to  go  away,  that  their  own  Thanksgiving  might 
begin. 

The  Thanksgiving  day  was,  in  fact,  appointed  a  week 
later  than  that. 

They  had  not  to  wait  long.  , 

In  a  few  minutes  the  jingle  of  sleigh  bells  told  that 
the  toilets  of  the  officers  were  completed,  and  in  a 
moment  more  Captain  Josiah  Marvin  knocked,  and, 
without  waiting  an  answer,  came  in  on  the  men. 

The  tokens  of  respect  which  met  him  were  of  the 
slightest. 

But  such  tokens  there  were. 

'  Well,  boys,"  he  said,  "it's  a  spare  Thanksgiving 
any  of  us  will  have  at  best  ;  but  I've  brought  you  over 
all  the  rum  we  have  left,  and  if  you  take' it  all — it  will 
not  hurt  you — you're  welcome.  You  go,t  the  big 
rooster  ?  I  wish  there  were  anything  else.  But  you 


150  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

must  make  the  junk  do  for  filling.  You  Cape  Codders, 
I  suppose,  like  a  cape  turkey  best.  A  pleasant  night 
to  you  all.  You  know  Silas  is  on  duty.  Don't  make 
them  wait  for  the  relief ;  but  I  shall  be  back  before 
then.  Good-night  to  you." 

"Good-night,  good-night,  sir."  And  the  captain 
joined  his  companions,  and  was  off. 

No  sooner  had  the  door  closed  than  Elam  swung 
back  his  cellar-door  and  vanished,  only  to  reappear 
with  both  hands  full,  and  a  very  droll  imitation  of  the 
captain's  manner. 

4  Wai,  boys,  it's  a  spare  Thanksgiving  any  of  us 
will  have,  at  best,"  he  said.  "  But  I've  brought  you 
this  old  gobbler,  and  these  three  little  biddies,  and 
this  here  goose,  and  a  pair  of  ducks,  that  was  all  strut 
ting  and  parading  last  evenin'  down  to  the  old  Dutch 
man's  at  the  crossing.  The  Dutchman  did  not  know 
it  was  Thanksgiving  day,  so  he  did  not  know  what 
they  was  good  for.  But  I  know'd  mighty  well,  only  I 
thort  I'd  let  him  keep  'em  for  us  till  we  was  ready. 
Now,  here's  my  ramrod,  and  that  goes  through 
gobblers  and  quack-quacks.  Who  gives  his  ramrod 
for  little  quack  here?  not  so  little  either,  and  for 
young  cut-cut  ke  dar  cut  ?" 

There  was  no  lack  of  ramrods,  nor  of  cooks  to  tend 
the  roast. 

By  preconcerted  invitation,  the  men  from  the 
captain's  quarters  and  those  from  another  cabin  in  the 
hollow  soon  joined.  And  what  with  the  captain's 
rum  and  old  Freinhardt's  poultry,  the  revel  of  the 
Thanksgiving  evening  went  forward  with  as  much 
plenty,  if  not  as  much  elegance,  as  would  have  been 
found  that  night  in  any  household  in  New  England. 

"  Half   an  hour  yet  before  the  relief,"   cried    Mr. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING-VALLEY  FORGE.          i«l 

Micah  Stearns.       '  There'll  be  no  need  of  turning  out 
till  then.     Gin  us  another  song,  Dot." 

And  Dot  wet  his  whistle  for  the  tenth  time,  and 
sang  a  camp  ballad. 

A  heavy  knock  at  the  door  broke  in  on  the  closing 
words  of  the  song,  and  again  Captain  Marvin  threw 
it  open. 

'  That's  right,  boys  ;  make  a  jolly  time  of  it.  I 
looked  in  to  see  if  you  were  all  ready  for  the  relief. 
But  I  see  nobody's  asleep  here." 

And  he  did  his  best  not  to  see  the  carcasses  of  the 
turkey,  the  ducks,  and  the  chickens,  which  lay  in 
horrible  disorder  on  the  table. 

Elam,  with  a,  wholly  unnatural  effort  at  military 
etiquette,  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  saluted.  "  All  right, 
captain.  I  command  the  relief  myself,  and  I'm  sober 
— sober — sober,  captain,  as  the  clock." 

"  I  see  you  are,"  said  the  captain,  laughing,  and 
turning  away  as  quickly  as  he  could  from  the  scene  he 
was  sorry  he  had  looked  in  upon. 

"  Lights  and  fires  must  be  out  after  the  relief 
marches,  boys.  Parade  at  sunrise,  you  know,"  and 
he  was  gone. 

Alas  !  the  provant  was  all  gone,  too  ;  the  result  of 
Elam's  injudicious  foraging.  The  last  drop  of  rum 
had  gone  to  wet  Micah  Steam's  whistle,  and  the  com 
pany  were  fain  to  break  up,  when  a  bugle  from  below 
announced  that  the  officer  on  duty  expected  the 
relief. 

The  men  put  on  such  apologies  for  overcoats  as  they 
had. 

The  guests  of  the  cabin  bade  good-night. 

Elam  gave  the  word,  "  Forward,  march,"  and  the 
Thanksgiving  revel  was  ended. 


152  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

RECOMPENSE.  A 

The  morning  parade  of  the  company  was  steady 
enough.  It  was  not  till  Saturday  morning  that  com 
pensation  came.  We  are  never  so  stiff  the  day  after  a 
rough  ride  as  we  are  on  the  second  day. 

On  Saturday  morning  every  man  who  could  be  spared 
from  the  little  outpost  was  marched  a  mile  and  a  half 
or  more  to  brigade  headquarters.  Nobody  knew  why. 
The  men,  as  they  marched,  even  guessed  that  some 
sudden  dash  at  one  of  Howe's  outposts  might  be 
proposed.  But  nobody  could  guess  why  the  regular 
arrangements  for  the  reliefs  and  duty  en  the  picket- 
lines  were  broken  up.  Broken  up  they  were  ;  and,  if 
anybody  had  noticed,  the  whole  party  of  Thanksgiv 
ing  revellers  were  present  at  the  parade. 

The  parade  went  off  sufficiently  well,  though  some 
people's  hands  were  cold  with  handling  musket-butts 
in  the  frosty  air.  But,  after  the  parade,  the  men 
were  held  while  a  brigade  general  order  was  read. 
The  major-general  commanding  that  division  had 
been  appealed  to  by  old  Freinhardt,  whose  poultry- 
yard  had  been  stripped.  It  was  at  the  very  moment 
when  they  were  deciding  at  headquarters  whether  the 
whole  army  should  not  be  brought  up  for  the  winter 
to  Valley  Forge.  It  was  particularly  desirable,  there 
fore,  that  the  few  farmers  in  that  region  should  be 
conciliated.  And  so  it  was  that  one  example  of  great 
severity  had  to  be  made,  of  the  frolic  which  might  have 
been  winked  at  otherwise,  of  Elam  Ford  and  the  other 
boys.  Much  of  this  was  set  forth  in  the  rather 
cumbrous  general  order,  which  ended  by  ordering  six 
of  those  soldiers  under  arrest  for  a  week,  and  by  direct 
ing  that  Sergeant  Ford  should  be  reduced  to  the  ranks, 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING—VALLEY  FORGE.          153 

and  be  kept  under  arrest  for  a  month  at  that.  The 
order  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  but  for  this  act  of  dis 
obedience  he  would  have  been  promoted  to  a  lieuten 
ancy  on  the  first  of  the  year.  Now,  a  lieutenancy  was 
exactly  what  Elam  had  been  looking  forward  to,  with 
good  reason,  ever  since  they  had  crossed  the  North 
River. 

The  rage  of  the  whole  company  knew  no  bounds. 
Marvin  and  Guthrie,  who  were  both  very  fond  of 
Elam,  were  as  sorry  as  anybody  could  be,  and  had 
been  at  work,  if  he  had  but  known  it,  all  the  day  be 
fore,  pleading  with  the  colonel,  and  been  doing  their 
best  with  General  Glover  at  brigade  headquarters. 
But  nothing  would  do.  The  Dutchman  must  be  con 
ciliated.  The  whole  army  was  probably  to  move  at  once 
up  the  river  and  take  post  at  Valley  Forge,  and  there 
must  be  an  example  made,  and  poor  Elam  was  the 
example.  Sour  and  cross,  the  company  marched 
back  to  its  quarters,  the  men  under  arrest  following 
behind.  Sour  and  cross  they  spent  the  days,  not  to 
say  weeks,  that  followed.  When  the  whole  army 
marched  across  to  join  them,  from  the  Wissahickon 
and  up  from  below,  that  changed  the  external  of  things 
a  little.  But  what  are  the  externals  ?  At  heart,  every 
man,  whether  under  arrest  or  no,  was  enraged.  All 
the  revellers  were  as  guilty  as  Elam,  and  those  not 
punished  used  to  go  to  the  captain  and  lieutenant, 
Marvin  and  Guthrie,  and  say  so,  with  a  freedom 
which  in  any  other  service  would  have  been  severely 
punished,  but  which  in  the  democratic  New  England 
regiments  of  those  days  was  universal.  Yet  Marvin 
and  Guthrie  could  not  even  whisper  that  the  punish 
ment  had  been  inflicted  in  face  of  their  eager  protest. 
The  tie  which  held  privates  with  the  army  was  none 


154  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE, 

too  strong  at  best,  and  it  was  not  for  them  to  loosen 
the  cords  of  discipline. 

Readers  must  not  suppose  that  these  men  who  were 
under  arrest  were  chained,  like  Baron  Trenck,  by  wrists 
and  ankles,  to  blocks  of  stone  in  underground 
dungeons.  The  resources  of  Valley  Forge  were  not 
equal  to  such  confinement,  had  there  been  cruelty 
enough  to  desire  it,  as  there  was  not.  It  was 
expected  that  they  would  report  at  the  guard-house 
several  times  in  a  day.  It  was  also  understood  that 
they  would  not  appear  at  guard-mountings  and  parade. 
But  not  a  man  of  them  even  affected  to  be  pleased  at 
this  relaxation  from  duty.  They  were  disgraced  before 
the  brigade,  and  it  was  a  disgrace  they  did  not  deserve, 
they  said.  As  for  military  duty,  that  was  what  they 
had  come  for,  and  they  thought  it  no  hardship.  In 
deed,  with  the  scanty  resources  of  their  outpost,  the 
poor  occupation  of  drill  and  guard-mounting  was  more 
a  pleasure  than  toil. 

They  hung  about  grumbling.  Elam's  punishment 
lasted  three  weeks  longer  than  the  others.  For  a 
month  he  had  nothing  to  do.  To  pass  away  the  time, 
he  amused  himself  with  old  Freinhardt's  children,  not 
because  they  were  his  enemy's  children,  but  because 
they  were  somebody's  children.  Not  one  of  Frein- 
hardt's  family  could  speak  a  word  of  English,  and  Elam 
did  not  know  that  he  could  speak  a  word  of  German. 
But  he  soon  found  out  that  "  come  here,"  with  a  red 
apple  presented  by  the  speaker,  meant  much  the  same 
to  a  little  German  tot,  as  if  he  had  said  "  komm  hier," 
and  he  and  the  army  of  children  became  good  friends. 
The  heavy  teams  and  the  artillery  sleds  hauling  stones 
up  from  the  Schuylkill  had  made  a  very  tempting 
coast,  and  the  bigger  boys  had  availed  themselves  of 


CHRTSTMAS  MOR\r  TNG— VALLEY  FORGE.          155 

the  facilities  thus  given  to  make  a  crowd  of  what  the 
Canadians  call  "  toboggins,"  and  of  little  "  jumpers," 
to  borrow  a  Virginian  phrase.  But  Elam  and  Micah 
astonished  them  by  a  Yankee  combination  of  two  very 
large  sleds,  in  the  genuine  pattern  of  the  largest  of 
"  double-runners"  of  the  New  England  hills.  And 
when  a  party  of  twenty  were  piled  upon  this  craft,  and 
it  shot  down  near  half  a  mile  upon  the  frozen  river, 
even  grumpy  old  Freinhardt  himself  would  take  out 
his  eternal  pipe  long  enough  to  express  his  approbation. 
There  was  not  a  woman  in  his  household  who  did  not, 
sooner  or  later,  take  a  ride  down  the  hill  on  the  "  John 
Hancock,"  as  the  rude  vehicle  was  called.  And 
Gottfried,  the  big  boy,  whom  Elam  secretly  meant  to 
enlist  into  his  company  in  the  spring,  was  soon  as  skil 
ful  as  Elam  himself  in  the  mysteries  of  steering.  For 
other  amusement,  Elam  had  skating,  in  which  he  was 
an  adept,  from  old  Merrimac  experience,  and  Gottfried 
stealthily  purveyed  a  pair  of  Dutch  skates  from  the 
garret  of  Freinhardt's  house  to  the  soldier's  cabin 
for  Elam's  personal  use.  Little  did  the  "  old  Dutch 
man,"  as  he  was  always  called,  though  he  never  was  in 
Holland — little  did  he  suppose  that  his  arch-enemy  was 
gliding  on  his  own  fleet  irons,  when  he  had  to  grumble 
out  his  confession  that  the  Yankee's  skates  seemed  to 
answer  as  well  as  if  they  had  been  made  in  Amsterdam. 
None  the  less,  in  all  these  sports  was  Elam  disgusted  ; 
a  little  disgusted  with  himself,  perhaps,  but  thoroughly 
enraged  with  his  colonel  and  with  the  brigadier.  Such 
was  his  condition  at  bottom.  Superficially,  at  top,  his 
rage  was  that  he  should  be  "  fooling  away  his  time." 
For  to  the  genuine  Yankee,  eager  of  purpose,  and 
with  a  quite  definite  conviction  that  Almighty  God  has 
left  to  him,  personally,  the  greater  share  of  the 


156  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

direction  of  the  world,  mere  recreation,  after  the  third 
day,  always  becomes  an  insufferable  bore.  He  despises 
any  person  whom  he  sees  engaging  in  it.  He  de 
spises  himself  equally,  if  circumstances  have  forced  him 
into  it. 

Meanwhile  the  entire  neighborhood  of  Valley  Forge 
had  assumed  unwonted  activity.  The  whole  army 
under  Washington  had  been  ordered  thither,  to  hold  a 
position  where  General  Howe,  the  English  commander, 
could  be  watched  through  the  winter.  Axes  were  served 
out,  and  heavy  timber,  as  the  men  were  to  build  cabins 
for  themselves.  The  cabin  which  Elam's  men  had 
built  some  weeks  before,  when  they  were  first  bidden 
to  hold  this  bridge  over  the  Schuylkill,  became  a  pattern 
much  studied  and  much  admired.  Wood  there  was  in 
plenty,  for  the  hills  were  covered  with  it.  But  there 
was  little  plenty  of  anything  else.  Still  the  army  was 
in  good  spirits,  and  did  not  yet  know  what  was  before 
it,  as  that  weary  winter  should  pass  by.  The  regiment 
to  which  Marvin's  company  belonged  was  already  so 
well  hutted,  that  no  great  change  was  made  in  .their 
quarters,  and  Elam  and  his  companions  were  free  to 
give  such  counsel  and  assistance  as  they  might  to  work 
ing  parties  who  had  not  had  their  experience. 


SURPRISE. 

So  matters  ground  along  for  the  first  few  weeks  of  poor 
Elam  Ford's  disgrace.  The  other  privates  tried  to  be 
specially  kind  to  him,  but  their  clumsy  efforts  seemed 
only  to  remind  him  of  his  misfortune.  His  superior 
officers  in  the  immediate  command,  Marvin  and  Guthrie, 
also  tried  to  be  kind  to  him,  but  their  kindness  he 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING-^-V ALLEY  FORGE.          157 

could  and  would  resent  almost  as  an  insult.  Not  that  he 
once  suspected  Captain  Marvin  as  having  "  peached" 
upon  him.  He  knew  perfectly  well  that  it  was  by 
other  testimony  that  he  had  been  convicted  at  brigade 
headquarters  of  the  onslaught  on  the  Dutchman's  hen- 
yard.  But  he  was  angry  that  these  men,  who  were  of 
his  own  time,  old  schoolmates  and  allies,  had  not  used 
their  influence  to  save  him.  For  little  did  he  know 
that  they  had  both  strained  their  means  of  grace  to  the 
very  utmost. 

At  last  the  month  of  "  arrest"  was  nearly  over.  But 
the  last  days  were,  perhaps,  the  worst  of  all.  Every 
cabin  near  him  was  finished,  and  he  had  no  excuse  for 
lending  a  hand  among  working  parties.  The  very 
worst  day  came  when  Marvin  and  Guthrie  again  ordered 
round  the  sleigh,  which  was  the  only  vehicle  for  the 
use  of  the  whole  post,  and  with  the  poor  old  mare  that 
had  taken  them  to  Thanksgiving  at  General  Glover's, 
drove  off  to  a  grand  Christmas  dinner,  which  was 
given  by  Smallwood,  of  the  Maryland  line.  Elam  was 
quite  alone  as  he  saw  them  go.  All  of  his  messmates 
were  on  picket  duty  that  day.  He  would  have  been 
were  it  not  for  his  cursed  arrest.  He  crawled  up  into 
his  bunk,  pulled  over  him  the  wretched  blanket  which 
was  his  only  night  covering,  turned  his  face  from  the 
light,  and  did  his  best  to  sleep. 

He  had  not  lain  there  five  minutes  before  the  door 
of  the  cabin  was  flung  open,  and,  to  Elam's  surprise,  a 
crowd  of  men  thronged  in,  voluble  with  oaths  and 
ejaculations.  But  an  instant  taught  him.  As  he 
lay  he  could  see  that  these  were  a  squad  of  English 
dragoons,  who  had  stealthily  crossed  the  little  patch 
from  the  woods  behind,  where  they  had  been  waiting 
till  the  detail  of  Americans  should  move  down  the  hill, 


158  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE.   ' 

and  now,  so  soon  as  their  backs  were  turned,  had  taken 
possession  of  the  cabin. 

"  All  gone  !"  said  the  officer  in  command,  with  more 
oaths  than  need  be  repeated  here.  "  So  much  the 
better.  Every  shot  saved  is  so  much  time  gained.  A 
good  fire  they  have  left  us,  no  thanks  to  them. 
William,  take  the  boys  down  the  hill.  Ferguson 
will  stop  every  blackguard  in  the  other  barrack  here  ; 
do  you  join  his  men  at  the  fork  ;  wait  for  the  party 
of  the  Queen's  at  the  barn  in  the  hollow,  and  I  will 
find  you  there.  I'll  just  warm  my  fingers  here,  and 
make  sure  about  the  lane  road." 

As  he  spoke  he  drew  a  bit  of  tracing  paper  from  his 
pocket,  opened  it  upon  the  table,  and  began  to  study 
the  map  upon  it,  as  he  clapped  his  cold  hands  together. 
The  subaltern  touched  his  hat,  and  withdrew  the  men. 

The  orders  given  were  enough  to  show  to  Elam  in  an 
instant  what  was  the  design  ;  and  a  design  wonderfully 
well  laid  it  was.  Relying  on  the  Christmas  festivities 
of  the  Pennsylvania  brigades,  as  confidently  as  Wash 
ington,  a  year  before,  had  relied  on  those  of  the 
Hessians,  the  English  colonel  who  had,  by  a  bold  push, 
ridden  round  the  American  army  with  two  companies 
of  dragoons,  had  broken  them  into  small  squads,  who 
had  worked  their  way  through  the  woods,  and  were 
now  on  the  eve  of  re-union  quite  inside  the  only  picket 
lines  held  by  Americans  on  that  side  of  Valley  Forge 
which  was  most  distant  from  Philadelphia.  Had  the 
roads  been  hard,  a  ten  minutes'  gallop  would  take  them 
to  the  very  house  where  thirty  of  the  most  distinguished 
officers  of  Washington's  right  wing  were  dining.  As 
it  was,  they  were  expecting  to  arrive  there  just  after 
dark,  and  in  the  confusion  of  such  an  onslaught  they 
would  have  a  good  chance  to  make  prizes.  All  this 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— VALLEY  FORGE,          159 

. 

passed  through  Elam  Ford's  mind  in  an  instant.  He 
sickened  as  he  thought  of  the  treachery  which  had 
taught  them  where  to  strike  the  blow.  He  did  not 
dare  to  move  lest  he  should  lose  every  chance  of  ren 
dering  service.  Yet  he  should  die,  he  knew,  if  he  did 
nothing. 

From  this  distress,  however,  a  single  minute  relieved 
him.  The  English  captain,  perfectly  unconscious,  in 
the  darkness  of  the  cabin,  that  he  was  not  alone,  turned 
to  the  fire  to  warm  his  hands  over  the  embers,  and,  lift 
ing  a  heavy  log,  flung  it  across  the  bricks  which  served 
for  andirons.  Availing  himself  of  the  noise  and  the 
movement  of  the  other,  Elam  turned  instantly  on  his 
elbow,  saw  the  situation  at  once,  sprang  from  the  bunk 
upon  his  feet  behind  the  other,  and,  taking  him  wholly 
unawares,  pushed  him  down,  as  he  bent  over,  into  the 
very  fireplace  which  he  was  feeding.  Then,  without 
pausing  a  moment,  Elam  drew  open  the  cellar-door, 
sprang  down  the  rough  steps  into  the  darkness,  gave 
one  wrench  at  this  ladder,  enough  to  loosen  it  and 
throw  it  upon  the  ground,  and  then  pushed  open  a 
bulkhead  at  a  passage  where  they  were  used  to  haul 
in  such  stores  as  were  kept  there.  He  could  hear  the 
oaths  and  cries  of  the  officer  above  him,  and  he  knew 
that  at  best  his  time  was  very  short.  He  was  even 
glad  to  see  no  movement  at  the  other  cabin  and  to 
hear  no  sound  from  below,  although  these  were  indi 
cations  that  the  raiding  party  was  already  some 
minutes  on  its  way  toward  the  quarry. 

He  was  closely  pursued,  as  he  knew  that  he  should 
be,  but,  fortunately  for  him,  the  pursuit  was  arrested  as 
suddenly  as  it  began.  The  English  captain  recovered 
himself  from  the  fall,  not  without  scorchings  and 
burnings,  which  at  another  time  he  would  have  thought 


160  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

horrible,  but  which  at  this  instant  did  not  hinder  him 
for  a  moment.  The  bang  of  Elam's  door  had  taught 
him,  only  too  well,  the  way  of  his  escape,  and  it  re 
quired  but  a  minute  to  find,  in  the  gathering  darkness, 
the  trick  of  opening  it.  He  swung  it  back,  and  boldly 
sprang  down  as  the  other  had  done,  but  to  a  longer 
leap.  He  fell,  badly  bruised,  upon  the  rough  step-lad 
der,  and  as  he  tried  to  extricate  himself  found  his  hands 
and  arms  fettered  by  the  accident  that  his  dragoon's 
cloak,  trailing  behind  him,  had  caught  upon  something 
in  the  floor  above,  and  was  already  firmly  secured  in 
the  heavy  swing  of  Elam's  door.  At  first  the  poor 
captain  had  a  feeling  that  above  and  below  some  bear 
or  panther  had  pounced  upon  him,  for  the  English  army 
was  full  of  imagined  terrors  of  the  wilderness  ;  and  in 
a  dark  hole  like  this,  alone  on  a  winter's  night,  even  a 
man  of  his  experience  recurred  to  the  stories  which 
told  of  them.  But  in  an  instant  more  he  made  sure  that 
nobody  was  pinioning  him  but  himself.  He  did  not, 
however,  so  quickly  find  how  he  was  to  be  unpinioned. 
His  left  arm,  which  lay  under  him,  refused  so  stubborn 
ly  to  come  to  the  rescue,  that  he  was  afraid  it  was  broken. 
His  right  arm  was  all  twisted  out  of  its  place  by  the 
tight  strain  of  the  cloak  upon  it,  and  when  he  brought 
round  the  burnt  fingers  to  the  clasp  which  bound  this 
at  the  throat,  it  seemed  only  too  clear  that  this  was  in 
one  of  those  tangles  which  even  the  saints  call  "  infer 
nal,"  and  which  no  power  which  those  poor  blistered 
fingers  could  bring  upon  it  could  make  it  yield. 

With  every  effort  which  he  made  to  rise  upon  his  knees, 
the  steps  of  the  ladder  under  him  seemed  to  trip  and 
tumble  him  over,  and  every  such  effort  taught  him  that 
his  left  arm  was  broken  or  dislocated  at  the  shoulder. 
Once  and  again,  indeed,  in  such  efforts  he  thought  he 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— VALLEY  FORGE.          161 

should  be  choked  by  the  bearing  of  the  throat-latch, 
which  would  not  be  undone.  He  was  in  utter  dark 
ness,  because  Elam  had  closed  the  opening  through 
which  he  had  rushed  into  the  open  air.  It  was  thus 
that  the  unfortunate  officer  lost  the  precious  minutes 
in  which  alone  his  pursuit  of  Elam  would  have  been 
effected. 

These  minutes,  indeed,  were  very  few.  Before  two 
minutes  were  past  Elam  Ford  was  half  a  mile  away, 
safe  on  the  firm  ice  of  the  Schuylkill.  If,  as  he  left  the 
cabin,  he  had  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  his  course,  that 
doubt  was  solved  for  him  as,  with  his  first  glance  around, 
he  saw  the  bulky  form  of  the  "  John  Hancock"  by  the 
roadway,  where  Gottfried  and  the  others  had  left  her 
when  summoned  home  by  the  horn  which  called  them 
to  their  Christmas  dinner.  Had  Pegasus,  full-winged, 
stood  before  him  or  a  champing  war  horse  pawed  to 
do  him  service,  Elam  would  not  have  been  so  well 
pleased.  For,  indeed,  here  was  a  charger  whose  paces 
he  understood  better  than  those  of  hippogriff  or 
destrier.  In  half  a  minute  he  had  drawn  the  "  John 
Hancock"  to  the  brow  of  the  hill.  Less  than  half  a 
minute  was  enough  to  roll  and  throw  upon  the  hinder 
sled  a  heavy  log  which  the  men  had  hauled  thus  far 
to  cut  and  split  for  firing.  Then  Elam  started  the 
huge  machine,  ran  an  instant  by  its  side,  flung  himself 
upon  the  foremost  sled  with  the  two  steering  spikes 
which  had  lain  upon  it,  and  with  a  speed  such  as  race 
horse  never  rivalled  dashed  down  the  icy  hill. 

Colonel  Bedford's  line  of  mounted  pickets  had  been 
thrown  out  with  true  military  precision,  to  make  sure 
that  no  straggler  of  the  rebels  carried  any  news  of  the 
English  advance  down  his  well-worn  way.  In  that 
line  of  pickets  was  a  Yorkshireman,  as  near-sighted 


1 62    -  OUR    CHRISTMAS  I IV  A    PALACE. 

as  the  average  Yorkshireman,  and  not  badly  mount 
ed.  He  sat  upon  his  horse,  wondering  how  long  it 
might  be  before  the  main  party  should  return,  and 
with  sufficient  care  watching  the  roadway  in  the 
gathering  twilight.  » 

The  sun  was  already  down.  But  what  care  could 
arrest  the  flight  or  the  headlong  charge  of  the  well- 
directed  "  John  Hancock"  ?  Nay,  what  horse  of  the 
best  training  would  stand  without  flinching  the  sight 
of  such  an  apparition  ?  As  Elam  dashed  by  on  his 
lightning  track,  the  trooper's  horse  shied  wildly,  and, 
although  the  man  fired  his  pistol,  he  fired  it  at 
nothing,  and  the  only  effect  of  the  discharge  was  to 
startle  the  American  pickets,  unconscious  till  this 
moment  that  they  had  been  wholly  outflanked,  and 
that  an  enemy  was  inside  their  lines. 

Elam  Ford  rushed  on,  on  his  unobstructed  way. 
From  the  crest  where  he  started  to  the  smooth  ice 
of  the  river  is,  perhaps,  half  a  mile.  And  for  such  a 
vehicle,  well  steered,  thirty  seconds  was  enough  for  the 
descent.  Plunging  upon  the  glaring  ice,  Elam  threw 
his  whole  weight  upon  the  steering  pike,  which  he 
drove  into  the  smooth  surface  on  his  larboard  side. 
The  huge  sledge  obeyed  its  helm,  and  after  one  critical 
moment,  when  it  seemed  tottering  as  if  to  turn  over, 
it  dashed  down  the  river.  It  shot  forward  nearly  half 
a  mile  more,  before  it  lost  the  impetus  of  the  hill.  So 
soon  as  the  motion  slackened,  Elam  drew  himself  up, 
loosened  from  one  of  the  posts  of  the  sledge  a  pair  of 
skates  which  hung  there,  and  before  the  "  John 
Hancock"  had  well  stopped,  he  had  strapped  them 
upon  his  feet  and  was  ready  for  his  further  journey. 

Just  as  he  stood  on  the  ice  against  the  white  slope 
of  the  hill,  he  saw  another  moving  figure  coming  fear- 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING^  VALLEY  FORGE.          163 

lessly  toward  him.  Elam  could  not  avoid  him  if  he 
would,  and  in  an  instant  was  glad  he  had  made  no 
effort  to,  when  he  recognized  the  friendly  voice  of 
Gottfried.  "  I  shouldn't  been  more  tickled,"  said 
Elam  afterward,  "  had  it  been  an  angel  from  heaven." 
To  send  Gottfried  to  the  guard-house  above,  and  warn 
Lieutenant  Faunce  of  the  enemy's  position,  while  he 
himself  carried  the  alarm  to  the  Christmas  party  of 
officers  below — if  yet  there  was  time — this  was  his 
effort.  But  how  to  send  a  messenger  who  does  not 
speak  one's  language.  Elam  seized  that  intuition  of 
speaking  loudly  and  slowly,  which  has  served  so  many 
wayfaring  men,  though  fools,  since  the  Tower  of  Babel. 
He  pointed  to  the  block-house,  which  was  full  insight, 
though  near  a  mile  up  the  river,  and  cried  :  "  Faunce, 
Faunce  !"  '  Ja  wohl,  ja  wohl,"  cried  the  willing 
Gottfried.  "Faunce,  Faunce,  a  hundred  troopers!" 
screamed  poor  Elam  so  loudly  that  even  Faunce  him 
self  could  have  heard  had  he  been  listening.  "  Ja  wohl, 
ja  wohl,"  said  Gottfried  again.  "  Hundert  trupper, 
hundert  trupper,  ich  verstehe."  "  Smatlwood," 
screamed  Elam,  pointing  now  down  the  river.  '  Ja 
wohl,  Smallwood,"  said  the  other,  to  whom  that 
general's  name  and  person  were  perfectly  well  known, 
and  had  Elam  written  him  a  despatch  of  forty  folios  he 
would  not  have  understood  better  than  he  did  that  a 
force  of  a  hundred  cavalrymen  were  threatening  Small- 
wood,  and  that  he  was  to  carry  that  news  to  Faunce's 
little  outpost.  He  dashed  up  the  river  faster  than  a 
bird.  Never  had  he  skated  on  such  an  errand  or  with 
such  a  motive.  The  little  mile  between  him  and  the 
outpost  was  nothing.  In  as  little  time  as  it  takes  to 
describe  it,  he  had  passed  over  the  distance  on  the  river, 
and,  as  he  clambered  up  the  low  bank,  was  within  call 


1 64  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

of  Faunce's  puzzled  men.  The  bugler  had  already 
given  the  alarm.  The  pickets  were  falling  in  from 
every  side,  leaving  only  a  line  of  observation. 
Lieutenant  Faunce  himself,  perplexed,  ran  down  the 
bank  to  receive  Gottfried's  message.  The  boy  was  too 
well  known  in  the  whole  company  to  be  doubted. 
There  were  men  who  well  understood  him  when  he 
spoke  in  his  own  language,  and  his  perfectly  coherent 
story  was  enough  to  induce  the  lieutenant  to  lead  the 
greater  part  of  his  detachment,  by  the  quickest  pace 
possible,  through  the  heavy  snow  by  the  river  road 
iirect  to  the  Forge  in  the  valley. 


A  LITTLE  DINNER   PARTY. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  little  central  village  of  the 
improvised  town,  General  Smallwood  had  collected  his 
Christmas  party.  It  was  made  up  on  no  principle  of 
rank  ;  but,  by  his  inviting  gentlemen  whom  he  had 
met  in  the  severe  service  in  the  last  year,  whatever 
the  State  Line  to  which  they  belonged,  Smallwood 
pleased  himself  with  the  thought  that  he  was  thus 
bringing  together  officers  from  all  parts  of  the  country. 
Marvin  had  been  his  especial  favorite  since  he  covered 
the  rear  in  the  sharp  skirmish  in  Greenwood  the  day 
of  the  fatal  battle  of  Brooklyn.  And  Smallwood  was 
never  more  pleased — though  he  was  certainly  surprised 
— than  when  the  young  New  Englander  told  him,  as 
he  entered  the  room,  that  this  was  the  first  Christ 
mas  dinner  he  had  ever  eaten  with  the  recollection 
that  it  was  Christmas  day. 

General  Smallwood's  satisfaction  was  complete  when, 
just  as  they  were  to  sit  down,  one  of  his  aides  came 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— VALLEY  FORGE.         165 

clattering  up  to  the  door  with  a  message  from  the 
"  marquis, "  as  Lafayette  was  everywhere  called,  to  say 
that  he  was  unexpectedly  at  liberty,  and  would  accept 
General  Smallwood's  invitation,  which  he  had  before 
declined.  The  table,  served  for  thirty  in  the  long  log 
cabin,  which  had  been  run  out  behind  the  inn  to  serve 
as  a  dining-room,  was  readily  arranged  for  the  distin- 
gushed  guest  and  De  Kalb  whom  he  had  brought  with 
him.  The  varied  uniforms  of  the  different  State 
"  Lines"  had  not  yet  all  given  way  to  the  blue  and 
buff.  Blue,  white,  and  green  varied  the  long  line  of 
the  table  ;  and  even  the  red  coat,  which  was  in  gen 
eral  the  sign  of  an  enemy,  appeared  in  two  instances  as 
the  uniform  of  Morgan's  horse.  Never  had  a  more 
distinguished  party  gathered  under  the  newly-baptized 
American  flag. 

Marvin  winced  a  little  as  Smallwood  turned  to  him, 
as  soon  as  he  began  to  carve  a  twenty-pound  turkey. 
"  Marvin,"  said  he,  "  we  have  not  let  Glover's  line  eat 
all  the  gobblers  for  their  Thanksgiving.  We  have  a  few 
more  left  in  the  plantations,  and  they  do  say  there  are 
some  of  the  blue  hen's  chickens  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table." 

The  Thanksgiving  order    of  the  day  at    Glover's 
brigade  had  become  camp  talk. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Marvin,  "that  the  Maryland 
turkeys  are  better  than  those  they  bring  us  from  Cape 
Cod." 

The  answer  pleased  the  Marylander,  who  explained 
to  Lafayette,  who  sat  at  his  right,  that  his  wife  had 
sent  a  special  express  to  camp,  which  had  arrived  only 
the  night  before,  to  supply  the  stores  for  the  full  feast 
which  was  before  them.  But  it  was  impossible  for  the 
genial  Marylander  to  understand  the  feeling — closer 


166  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

than  feudal  feeling — which  bound  the  New  England 
captain  to  his  privates.  And  little  did  he  think  that 
in  his  joke  he  had  renewed  the  only  bitter  sting  which 
that  day  could  have  for  the  brave  young  officer  of 
whom  he  was  so  fond. 

This  little  story  must  not  stop  to  tell  of  the  gay  talk 
of  that  gay  dinner.  Lafayette  told  bright  stories  of 
London  life,  even  of  the  very  men  who  were  in  front 
of  them  in  Philadelphia.  He  spoke  grammatical 
English  with  a  fascinating  French  accent  and  an 
occasional  blunder  in  idiom  which  gave  a  zest  to  his 
slow  narration,  whose  enforced  delay  contrasted  oddly 
with  the  eagerness  of  the  flow  of  his  thought.  Even 
De  Kalb  told  stories  from  the  French  mess-rooms. 
The  Southern  gentlemen  had  negro  stories,  Indian 
stories,  and  no  end  of  rallying  of  the  New  Englanders 
who  knew  so  little  of  Christmas. 

The  New  Englanders  were  not  behind  in  pity  for 
men  who  had  never  heard  of  Thanksgiving.  Everybody 
who  had  been  within  a  hundred  miles  of  Trenton  and 
the  crash  on  Rahl  the  year  before,  fought  that  battle 
over  again,  and  gayer  and  gayer  sounded  the  talk  and 
brighter  and  more  joyous  was  the  song  in  German,  in 
French,  and  in  English,  as  the  afternoon  passed,  and 
the  sun  went  down. 

Lafayette  had  just  begun  singing,  to  the  amusement 
of  everybody,  some  new  French  words  to  the  air  of 
"  Mir  onion,  mironton,  mirontaine,"  when,  at  a  word  frorr 
Smallwood,  a  white-haired  old  negro — the  same  who 
had  conveyed  the  poultry  from  his  plantation — entered 
at  the  head  of  a  black  procession,  who  bore  three 
extemporized  chandeliers  made  from  barrel-hoops 
wreathed  in  evergreen  and  tallow-dips  already 
lighted. 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— VALLEY  FORGE.          167 

"Yes,  Zeno,  you  may  stand  on  the  table,"  said 
Smallwood,  laughing.  And  the  old  man  mounted  with 
dignity,  and  hung  his  elegant  circle  of  light  upon  a  hook 
in  the  rafter  already  provided.  He  took  a  second  hoop 
from  the  man  behind  him,  and  the  gentlemen  were 
fairly  clapping  him,  in  laughing  praise  of  his  dexterity, 
when  the  farther  door  of  the  dining-room  was  flung 
open,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  bugle  outside  sounded 
'  To  horse,"  in  a  strain  which  every  man  there  under 
stood  perfectly. 

Elam  Ford  sprang  in  at  the  open  door.  He  was,  of 
course,  instantly  recognized  by  Marvin  and  Guthrie. 
"  Belford's  horse — a  party  of  two  companies — on  the 
river  road  !" 

"  General,"  said  Elam,  even  in  that  moment  report 
ing  with  military  precision  to  his  own  brigadier-general, 
Glover,  "  they  have  dodged  our  pickets.  They  met 
at  the  hollows  and  are  coming  down  the  river  road  to 
this  place.  I  have  heard  the  order."  And  outside,  as 
he  spoke,  Harry  Lee's  bugle-man  sounded  "  To  horse, 
to  horse,  to  horse  !" 

The  gay  party  melted  from  the  scene,  no  man  knew 
how.  Every  man  of  them,  of  course,  was  dressed 
according  to  the  old  rule  of  chivalry,  which  required 
that  a  gentleman  should  always  be  ready  to  mount  and 
to  ride  as  for  his  life.  Windows  and  doors  flew  open, 
and  in  a  moment  more  there  was  no  man  at  the 
gayly-lighted  board. 

Each  officer  was  searching  for  a  horse  and  on  his 
way  to  his  command. 

Light-horse  Harry  himself  sprang  on  a  white 
horse  he  found  at  the  door — he  knew  not  whose — and 
rode  to  the  side  of  his  bugler,  who  was  till  sounding 
"To  horse,  to  horse  !" 


1 68  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Elam  Ford,  as  he  left  the  table,  seized  the  American 
flag  which  hung  over  the  host's  chair.  Had  Elam 
known  it,  it  had  been  embroidered  in  silk  by  Mrs. 
Smallwood's  friends  on  the  "  Eastern  shore."  Elam 
thrust  the  steering  pike,  which  he  still  held,  through 
the  silken  folds,  and  ran  out  to  the  road,  which  was 
almost  as  light  as  day,  from  Zeno's  blazing  candles 
within  the  open  room. 

"  Rally  on  the  colors  !"  cried  Elam,  lustily,  "  rally 
on  the  colors  !  Yes,  boys,  form  by  twos  on  the  colors, 
speaking  in  the  language  of  tactics  long  since  forgot 
ten.  "  Form  on  the  colors — form  on  the  colors — for 
God's  sake  form  on  the  colors  !  Where  are  you  going, 
Butternut?  Form  on  the  colors." 

"  Looking  for  my  company,"  said  the  frightened 
Jerseyman. 

"  Company,  dang  it  !  Form  on  the  colors  or  you'll 
have  no  company.  That's  right,  Shirtsleeves  ;  form  on 
the  colors."  And  then,  as  old  Zeno  appeared  behind 
him,  "  Take  these  colors,  darkey,  and  stand  here  till  I 
bid  you  move."  He  ran  down  the  extemporized 
platoon,  and  dressed  it  by  pushing  or  pulling  the  men. 
"  Load  while  we  wait,"  he  said  to  them  in  a  loud 
tone,  and  then  running  back  to  the  black  man, 
"  Form  on  the  colors,  boys,  form  on  the  colors  !" 

A  minute  was  enough  to  bring  in  thirty  or  more  men 
of  every  arm — dragoons  without  horses,  artillerymen 
from  Knox's  brigade,  riflemen  of  Morgan's,  and  infan 
try  from  half  a  dozen  regiments.  Well  pleased,  Elam 
now  took  the  colors  from  Zeno,  and  gave  them  to  a 
sixfooter  from  the  Blue  Ridge,  saying : 

"  Bid  them  form  on  the  colors,  and  as  soon  as  you 
get  forty  men,  find  an  officer,  if  you  can.  But,  any 
way,  as  soon  as  you  have  forty,  follow  me." 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING -VALLEY  FORGE.         169 

Then,  running  in  front  of  his  extemporized  com 
pany  : 

"  Mark  time,  gentlemen  ;  poise  firelocks,  column  of 
fours— forward,  march — quick  time." 

And  the  little  company  disappeared  into  the  dark 
ness,  while  the  Virginian  in  his  turn  shouted  : 

"  Form  on  the  colors.  Why  don't  you  form  on  the 
colors?" 

A  minute  more,  and  Elam  had  his  men  on  the  run  in 
double-quick  time.  Just  in  time  was  he  to  post  them 
behind  the  wreck  of  a  fence,  built  above  some  pros 
trate  logs  where  the  old  road  made  a  sharp  bend  north 
ward,  and  where  they  had  thus  much  cover  as  they  lay, 
which  in  the  darkness  might  deceive  the  advancing 
cavalry.  He  was  just  in  time.  Not  one  minute 
passed  before  the  Englishmen  came  down  the  road  in 
fours. 

"  Hold  your  fire  till  I  bid,"  said  Elam.  "  Remember 
Bunker's  Hill,  every  baby  of  you.  Hold  your  fire.  I 
tell  you  I  was  there.  Butternut,  Shirtsleeves,  Number 
Two,  Peleg,  cover  your  men  when  they  pass  the  tree, 
and  fire  when  you  have  them.  That  will  do." 

Crack  !  crack  !  crack  !  crack  !  These  were  the 
answers  to  the  order,  and  the  poor  doomed  fellows 
rolled  off  their  horses,  every  man  of  them.  The  whole 
advancing  column  reined  up  in  wild  confusion. 

"  Storrow's  company  to  the  right  !  Double-quick 
time!"  cried  Elam.  "Three  files  to  the  bridge! 
Double-quick  time  !  Curtis,  send  to  the  general  that 
we  have  every  man  of  them." 

Whether  these  impromptu  commands  to  imagined 
forces  were  heard  or  not,  it  would  be  hard  to  say.  The 
unfortunate  commander  of  the  English  party  was 
killed.  His  most  experienced  captain  was  at  that 


ryo  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

moment  feeling  his  way  with  a  broken  arm  around  the 
inner  walls  of  Elam's  cellar,  two  miles  away.  The 
other  captain  in  the  rear  was  giving  orders,  which  no 
man  heard  in  the  wild  confusion.  A  storm  of  random 
pistol  shots  from  excited  troopers  confused  every 
thing,  and  made  order  impossible.  All  of  them  had 
for  five  minutes  heard  the  drums  of  Faunce's  company 
behind  them,  and  from  the  way  his  boys  beat  them, 
you  would  have  thought  there  were  forty  drums. 
They  dared  not,  therefore,  turn  upon  their  own  tracks, 
to  meet  a  regiment  of  infantry  in  their  rear. 

The  rear  files  of  the  English  horsemen  thought,  and 
thought  wisely,  that  discretion  was  the  better  part  of 
valor.  They  leaped  the  low  fence  on  their  right,  ran 
their  horses  to  the  river,  and  crossed  it  on  the  ice.  A 
moment  more  and  the  same  movement  became  univer 
sal.  Men  who  thought,  thought  it  had  been  ordered. 
Men  who  did  not  think,  followed  because  it  promised 
safety.  Sooner  than  he  meant,  sooner  than  he  wished, 
Elam  saw  his  enemy  retiring. 

"  Give  them  a  volley,  boys  !  Fire  !"  he  cried,  almost 
disappointed.  And  the  men  fired,  probably  with  no 
effect.  At  that  moment  Light-horse  Harry  himself, 
with  a  squadron  of  some  thirty  men,  appeared.  Elam 
pointed  eagerly  to  the  flying  foe. 

Lee  thanked  him,  and  followed. 

"Tally-ho,  gentlemen!"  he  cried  to  his  men,  and 
they,  too,  leaped  the  fence  in  pursuit. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  Elam,  "  Guess  our  job's  done. 
Form  on  your  sergeants.  Column  of  fours.  Quick- 
time — march." 

At  this  moment  Faunce  and  his  men  came  up,  well 
flushed  with  running,  and  well  pleased  with  success. 


CHRISTMAS  MQRNftfG—  VALLEY  FORGE.          171 

They  followed  Elam's  command.  He  led  the  whole 
party  back  to  General  Smallwood's  headquarters.  He 
met  the  tall  Virginian  with  the  second  company. 

"  All  out  !"  he  called  ;  "all  out  !"  in  the  quaint 
phrase  of  the  old-time  fire  companies.  And  this  com 
pany  also  returned  to  the  stable-yard  of  the  old  tavern, 
and,  like  Ford's  men  and  Faunce's,  stood  at  easy  rest, 
listening  to  know  if  there  were  any  other  alarm. 

No  !  the  work  was  done,  and  well  done.  Smallwood 
himself  and  the  gentlemen  of  his  staff  were  sitting  on 
their  horses.  From  time  to  time  one  and  another 
orderly  or  mounted  officer  rode  in,  and  reported  that 
all  was  still.  A  buzz  and  whisper,  after  half  an  hour, 
told  that  young  Hamilton  had  ridden  in  with  a  message 
from  the  commander-in-chief.  Smallwood  himself  now 
rode  across  to  the  improvised  infantry. 

"Captain,"  he  said  to  Elam,  "his  Excellency  is 
on  the  road,  and  will  be  here  in  a  minute.  Will  you 
call  your  men  into  line  that  we  may  salute  him  ?" 

"  Attention,  company  !  Right  dress  !  Poise  fire 
locks  !  Shoulder  firelocks!  Slow  time — march!" 
cried  Elam. 

"  Attention,  company  !  Right  dress  !  Poise  fire 
locks  !  Shoulder  firelocks  !  Slow  time — march  !" 
cried  the  tall  Virginian. 

And  Faunce  repeated  the  order. 

The  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  and  the  well-appointed 
staff  of  the  commander-in-chief  rode  up.  Washington 
himself  was  at  Smallwood's  side,  and  gave  him  his 
hand  in  eager  congratulation. 

"  Present  arms  !  Present  arms  !" 

Washington  turned  to  the  men,  uncovered  his  head, 
and  said  : 


r72  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

'  We  cannot  thank  you  enough,  gentlemen  !  With 
such  soldiers  America  will  never  be  conquered.  A 
merry  Christmas  to  you  all  !" 

Then  he  bent  in  the  saddle,  took  Elam  Ford  by  the 
hand,  and  said  : 

'  The  best  parade  I  ever  saw,  sir  !  May  I  know 
your  rank  and  name  ?" 

"  Elam  Ford,  private,  Massachusetts  iQth,  under 
arrest,"  said  Elam,  proud  as  Cceur  de  Lion. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  none  the  less,  captain,"  said 
Washington,  pressing  his  hand  this  time.  '  We  shall 
know  each  other  better.  You  may  dismiss  your  men. 
The  alarm  is  over.  A  merry  Christmas,  boys  !" 

"  General,"  said  Small  wood,  "  if  you  would  dis 
mount,  there  is  a  cold  turkey  here  and  a  glass  of  good 
Madeira.  Ask  your  gentlemen  to  join  us.  Colonel  Lee 
will  be  thirsty  after  his  long  ride,  and  we  shall  all  wait 
for  him."  Then  turning  to  Ford  and  beckoning  to 
Faunce  and  to  the  Virginian,  ' '  Gentlemen,  will  you 
also  join  us  in  a  glass  of  wine  ?" 

He  whispered  to  his  orderly,  and  in  a  minute  more 
the  bugler,  who  had  just  now  blew  so  different  a  strain, 
was  sounding  forth  to  the  wind  : 

"  Pease  upon  a  trencher — pease  upon  a  trencher." 

The  extemporized  party  was  scarcely  as  noisy  as 
that  whose  places  they  had  taken. 

The  start  which  they  all  had  was  too  fresh,  and  all 
ears  were  too  much  on  the  alert  for  a  new  alarm. 

Washington  was  courteous  ;  Hamilton  was  affable  ; 
Reed  made  himself  at  home  ;  and  Smallwood,  trying 
to  put  all  his  guests  at  ease,  called  Lafayette,  who  had 
returned  with  the  commander-in-chief. 

"  Marquis,  if  you  ever  want  to  teach  the  king's  infan 
try  of  the  line  how  to  rally  in  a  panic,  ask  this  gentle- 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING— VALLEY  FORGE.          173 

man  to  give  you  lessons.  By  Jove,  I  sat  my  horse  in 
wonder  to  see  those  frightened  boys  fall  in." 

And  he  presented  Ford  to  the  marquis,  and  they 
took  wine  together. 

A  minute  more,  and  with  a  little  bustle,  Glover  and 
Larned  and  Patterson  came  in. 

"  We  have  come  to  finish  the  Madeira,  general," 
said  Patterson,  laughing. 

"  Then  my  bugler  blew  loud  enough  to  call  you  ?" 

"We  heard  him  as  we  came.  To  tell  the  truth, 
Glover  was  not  unwilling."  And  they  could.all  afford 
to  laugh  now. 

Then  they  also  saw  the  commander-in-chief,  and 
apologized  to  him,  and  exchanged  their  formal  con 
gratulations. 

' '  Glover,"  said  Smallwood,  who  did  not  mean  to 
forget  his  new  friend,  Elam  Ford,  "you  Yankees  do 
not  know  much  about  Christmas." 

"We  know  good  Madeira  when  we  see  it,"  said 
Glover,  laughing. 

"  They  do  say  you  Marblehead  men  steer  your  regi 
ments  with  a  tiller  and  a  rudder,"  said  Smallwood,  and 
the  laugh  was  turned  again.  "  I  won't  say  much  for 
your  general  ;  but  for  me,  if  I  am  to  turn  out  in  two 
minutes  in  the  dark  again,  I  hope  I  may  have  a  private 
of  the  iQth  to  rally  my  men  under  fire." 

For  the  first  time,  Glover  took  in  the  position.  But 
he  was  quick,  and  though  he  did  not  know  Elam  Ford 
by  sight,  he  understood  it.  He  bowed,  well  pleased 
at  the  compliment  to  his  men. 

"  I  always  told  you  that  I  had  not  a  man  in  my 
brigade  but  what  would  make  a  good  colonel." 

"Well  said,  general,"  said  Washington,  smiling, 
'  and  very  true.  Will  you  oblige  general  and  gentle- 


174  OUR    CHRISTMAS   /7Vr  A    PALACE, 

men  by  drinking  the  health  of  Captain  Elam  Ford  ? 
To  our  better  acquaintance,  Captain  Ford. 

"  Really,  Smallwood,  I  must  not  stay  another 
minute. 

"  We  thought  we  would  look  at  all  the  forts.  If  we 
find  any  other  company  paraded,  we  shall  want  to  wish 
them  a  merry  Christmas. ' ' 


PROMOTION. 

At  brigade  general  headquarters  of  "  Glover's,"  on 
the  27th  of  December,  the  whole  brigade  paraded.  At 
the  end  of  the  parade  the  officer  on  duty  read  the 
general  order,  which  closed  with  the  words  : 

"  For  gallantry  in  action,  Private  Elam  Ford  is 
relieved  from  arrest. 

"  For  gallantry  in  action,  at  the  special  request  of 
his  Excellency  the  Commander-in-chief,  Private  Elam 
Ford  is  promoted  to  serve  as  captain,  vice  Wilderspin 
transferred  to  the  naval  ^ervice. 


As  Mr.  Menet  ended,  a  stalwart  old  lumberman,  in 
the  back  of  the  car,  rose  and  said  through  his  nose, 
quite  loud  : 

I   should  like  to  have    the    privilege  to  enquire, 
be  that  story  true  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Menet,  laughing,  "  I  tell  it  as  I  found 
it." 

"  I  went  over  the  ground  once,"  said  the  professor, 
"  with  the  story  in  my  hand.  It  might  have 
happened — it  might  have  happened." 

"A  good  many  things  mought  have  happened," 
said  the  lumberman. 

And  the  others  assented. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

-SEPZIBAH'S  TURKEYS. 

HECTOR  called  again,  in  a  broad  grin  : 

"  Four.      Mrs.  Frechette  will  make  a  confession." 

Mrs.  Frechette  sprang  to  her  feet  at  once. 

"  In  sack-cloth  and  ashes  I  confess  that  Mr.  Van 
Sandfoord  is  a  humbug  and  cheat.  I  introduced  him 
to  his  place,  I  made  him  chairman  of  the  committee. 
I  confess  I  was  a  fool.  I  confess  that  he  was  quite  in 
capable  from  the  beginning — " 

And  we  were  all  in  a  shout  of  laughter,  when  poor 
Hector,  a  little  upset,  it  must  be  confessed,  turned  to 
his  sheet,  and  had  to  read  : 

"  Fifth.  Mrs.  Van  Sandfoord  will  tell  the  story  of 
her  life." 

"  My  life  has  been  so  long,"  said  the  pretty  little 
bride,  blushing,  "  that  you  will  not  care  to  hear  the 
whole  of  it. 

"  But  while  Mr.  Decker  read  us  his  Thanksgiving 
story,  I  remembered  one  experience  one  day,  which  I 
saw  in  the  life  of  one  of  my  companions  in  Sunday- 
school. 

"  When  my  life  is  edited,  this  can  come  in  as  an  epi 
sode  in  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  my  eighteenth  year. 

"  And  our  friend  will  be  pleased  to  know  that  this 
story  is  true. 

"  I  have  it  here  written  out  in  my  scrap-book.  It 
is  called  here 


176  OUR   CHRISTMAS  AV  A    PALACE. 

"HEPZIBAH'S   TURKEYS." 

INTRODUCTORY. 

It  is  all  sixteen  years  ago.  Had  the  lives  of  the 
turkeys  been  spared,  as  they  were  not,  they  would  all 
now  be  sweet  seventeen.  They  might  have  rivalled 
in  size  the  sixty-pound  turkeys  which  Josselyn  saw  here 
two  hundred  years  ago.* 

But  their  lives  were  not  spared. 

The  first  I  heard  of  the  turkeys  was  as  I  came  down 
from  the  pulpit  on  the  Sunday  morning  before 
Thanksgiving.  Miss  Maria  Jennings  had  worked  her 
way  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  pulpit  stairs,  and  beck 
oned  me.  I  joined  her. 

14  I  wanted  to  ask  you  if  you  remember  Hepzibah 
Brown?" 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  said  I—"  the  girl  with  the  blind 
mother." 

'  The  same,"  said  Miss  Maria.  "  You  know  she  is 
in  my  Bible-class.  I  had  thought  that  it  would  be  a  nice 
thing  to  suggest  to  the  other  girls,  who  have  not  the 
slightest  idea  what  hardship  is  (as  how  should  they  ?), 
to  suggest  to  them  that  we  would  surprise  Hepsie  and 
her  mother  with  a  Thanksgiving  dinner.  Poor  souls, 
I  do  not  know  how  else  they  should  have  one.  You 
do  not  see  any  harm,  do  you  ?" 

"Harm?  Not  the  least,"  said  I;  "but  a  great 
deal  of  good,  rather." 

"  She  will  not  be  offended  or  hurt,  will  she  ? 

"  I  never  saw  that  she  was  a  fool,"  said  I.  "If  she 
is,  we  had  better  all  of  us  find  it  out.  I  should  say, 

*  "  I  have  heard  several  credible  persons  affirm  they  have  seen 
turkie-cocks  that  have  weighed  forty,  yea,  sixty  pound." — Josselyn's 
"  Wonders,"  Archaologia  Americana,  vol.  4,  p.  144. 


HEPZIBAirs  ^TURKEYS.  177 

though,  that  '  never  anything  can  be  amiss  when  sim- 
pleness  and  duty  tender  it.' ' 

Miss  Maria  laughed  and  went  her  way  ;  and,  when 
the  Bible-class  gathered,  she  proposed  her  little  plan  to 
those  of  the  girls  who  came  in  before  Hepzibah  Brown 
did,  and  bade  them  propose  it  to  those  who  came  in 
after  her.  They  were  all  pleased  with  the  proposal, 
and,  as  Monday  and  Tuesday  passed,  they  brought 
round  to  Miss  Maria  more  money  for  their  contribu 
tions  to  the  turkey  than  she  really  knew  well  what  to 
do  with.  I  met  her  Wednesday  morning,  and  she  told 
me  so.  But  she  said  she  had  bought  her  turkey,  and 
had  ordered  home  with  him  squashes  and  apples  and 
cranberries  and  a  bag  of  flour.  Then,  as  cranberries 
were  useless  without  sugar  and  pies  profitless  without 
cheese,  she  had  added  twenty  pounds  of  sugar  and 
five  of  cheese.  She  had  a  little  money  left,  and  she 
was  going  to  send  a  few  pounds  of  tea  to  the  old  lady. 


THE  TURKEYS   ARRIVE. 

Hepzibah  Brown  was  most  briefly  described,  as  the 
reader  has  seen,  ' '  as  the  girl  who  had  the  blind 
mother."  Her  mother  had  lost  her  sight  long,  long 
before  I  knew  anything  about  either  of  them  ;  nor  do 
I  know  how  she  lost  it.  I  first  found  them  living  in 
two  rooms,  of  which  Hepzibah  had  to  pay  the  rent 
weekly,  and  for  which  she  provided  the  ways  and 
means  by  the  most  difficult  and  trying  works  and  days. 
She  went  out  to  "  days'  works,"  technically  so  called. 
She  occasionally  contracted  to  take  in  babies  by  the 
month,  in  which  case  she  invariably  spent  on  their 
milk  much  more  than  all  the  money  paid  to  her  ;  and 
in  a  sharp  strain  she  took  in  slop-work  to  sew  upon. 


178  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

But  \ve  all  knew  that  times  were  indeed  hard  when  she 
came  to  this  resource. 

For  her  mother  there  were  several  sources  of  revenue, 
which  required  nursing  and  tending  worthy  of  Huskis- 
son  or  Vansittart.  There  was  the  monthly  payment  of 
one  dollar  and  sixty-two  cents  to  each  of  the  descend 
ants  of  Jairus  Hotchkiss.  You  had  to  go  for  this 
money  at  quarter  before  eleven  on  the  second  Friday 
before  the  third  Thursday  in  the  month.  "  It  would 
derange  my  accounts,"  said  the  lady  treasurer,  "if 
they  came  at  any  other  time."  Then  there  was  a 
dollar  and  a  half  a  month  from  the  Widows'  Associa 
tion.  This  you  went  for  in  the  afternoon  of  the  first 
Saturday  in  the  month.  It  was  steady  pay  ;  but  it 
made  it  necessary  for  the  old  lady  to  stay  in  Boston 
through  all  the  summer,  for  fear  she  would  lose  her 
"residence,"  Indeed,  Hepzibah  had  once  or  twice 
been  tempted  to  take  lodgings  in  Dorchester,  where 
rents  were  much  lower  ;  but  she  had  resisted  the  temp 
tation,  because  in  that  case  she  (or  her  mother,  strictly) 
would  have  been  cut  off  the  list  of  the  Association. 
For  the  Association  saw  some  advantages  which  I  do 
not  see  in  keeping  such  people  cooped  up  together  in 
the  town.  The  Overseers  of  the  Poor  of  Boston  have 
similar  rules.  The  old  lady  drew  two  dollars  a  month 
from  them  ;  and  she  was  right  careful  to  go  for  that 
dole  regularly,  and  not  to  slip  into  any  bosky  dells,  to 
which  it  would  not  follow  her.  I  think  her  husband 
had  been  a  pump  and  block  maker  ;  and  the  "  Seamen's 
Society,"  seeing  that  by  virtue  of  the  pumps  he  dealt 
in  water  and  by  virtue  of  the  blocks  was  conversant 
with  running  rigging,  took  him  on  their  lists,  with  a 
loyal  indifference  to  red-tape,  for  which  I  blessed 
them. 


HEPZIBA  H '  $  TURKE  YS.  179 

That  brought  in  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  month 
more. 

Did  I  hear  you  grumbling,  my  dear  Tyrus,  because 
the  Golconda  and  Croesusberg  divided  only  five  and  a 
half  per  cent  in  September,  while  you  had  had  six  per 
cent  every  six  months  before  since  you  can  remember  ? 

Please  spend  half  an  hour,  then,  with  a  bit  of  paper, 
arranging  your  monthly  personal  expenses  on  such  a 
scale  of  Debit  that  a  little  balance  will  be  left  to  you 
when  you  have  added  up  these  four  Credits  : 

Cr. 

City  of  Boston,      .  .        ^        «        .        .         .       $2.00 

Jair.  Hotchk.,    .        ,        ,        „        .  . ':.    ,..*•  .    1.62$ 

Widows'  Association,  .     .   .      „      -.        .        .        1.50 

Pump  and  Block,       .        .        ,.«...».....  .    1.25 

I  ask  you  to  make  out  this  little  monthly  statement 
of  expenses — including  your  share  of  two  dollars  a  week 
rent — because  the  calculation  of  these  figures,  arranged 
in  different  ways,  took  up  most  of  the  waking  hours  of 
Hepzibah  Brown,  when  she  lay  awake  at  all. 

For  Hepzibah  Brown  herself,  she  tried  hard  not  to 
beg,  and  liked  to  avail  herself  of  the  public  means  of 
culture  and  enjoyment.  She  was  much  more  cheaply 
dressed  than  any  of  the  other  girls  in  Miss  Maria's 
Bible-class.  But  she  loyally  came  to  the  Bible-class, 
and  I  honored  her  for  it,  and  so  did  Miss  Maria.  She 
sometimes  indulged  herself  in  tickets  to  a  course  of 
Lowell  lectures  on  the  "  Non-metallic  Bodies"  or  the 
"  Correlation  of  Forces."  She  could  get  the  tickets 
by  standing  in  the  street  in  a  queue  of  half  a  mile,  on 
her  way  home  from  Jairus  Hotchkiss's.  And  in  the 
evening,  at  the  lectures,  she  saw  the  people.  As  she 
said  herself,  it  saved  gas  and  coal  from  seven  o'clock 
till  nine.  It  was  true  that  the  old  lady  could  not  see 


I  So  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

the  experiments  or  the  other  illustrations.  But  she 
liked  society,  was  glad  to  be  in  a  crowd  ;  and,  as 
Hepzibah  truly  said,  it  was  hard  to  get  her  out,  and 
this  was  a  good  excuse  for  a  walk  for  her. 

They  kept  up,  I  think,  between  themselves,  at  most 
times,  the  pretence  of  much  more  ease  of  circumstance 
than  ever  existed  or  had  existed.  Sometimes  there 
had  to  be  some  such  frank  exhibit  as  I  have  made  above. 
But  in  general  both  of  them  thought  something  was 
going  to  turn  up.  They  had,  as  all  cheerful  people 
have,  great  facility  at  discounting  all  their  anticipa 
tions.  And  it  was  only  when  some  lady  visitor  of  the 
Hotchkiss  charity,  or  some  committee  on  retrenchment 
of  the  "  Association"  forced  Hepzibah  to  state  the  nar 
rowness  of  her  circumstances  that  she  herself  was  really 
aware  quite  how  hard  her  case  was.  She  would,  as  I 
said,  add  up  her  mother's  income  in  many  different 
ways  ;  but  the  result  in  all  was  substantially  the  same. 
Still,  by  casting  it  upon  the  basis  of  a  year  it  seemed  a 
good  deal  more  than  when  she  did  it  monthly.  And 
she,  therefore,  sometimes  indulged  herself  in  observing 
that  it  was  seventy-six  dollars  and  fifty-one  cents  a  year, 
and  that  was  a  great  deal  of  money  ;  and  that  with 
seventy-six  dollars  and  fifty-one  cents  a  great  deal  can 
be  done.  In  general,  they  affected,  even  with  each 
other,  to  be  well  satisfied  with  the  outlook,  and  sure 
that  the  present  hard  times  would  soon  be  over,  and 
things  in  general  easier  to  everybody. 

In  this  mood,  on  the  Wednesday  after  Miss  Maria 
made  the  move  about  the  turkeys  in  the  Bible-class, 
Hepzibah  said,  as  she  poured  out  her  second  cup  of  tea, 
as  she  and  her  mother  lingered  at  breakfast  : 

"  I  don't  mean  to  take  much  trouble  about  Thanks 
giving  this  year.  The  last  time  I  roasted  a  turkey  it 


HE PZIB AH'S    TURKEYS.  181 

took  a  heap  of  wood  and  made  me  no  end  of  trouble. 
I  was  glad  o'  the  trouble,  'cause  I  knew  poor  Jethro  'd 
have  no  turkey  anywhere  else.  And  he  did  take 
pleasure  in  that  turkey,  anyway.  But  Jethro  (well,  I 
s'pose  Jethro  must  be  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  mother, 
now),  he  won't  be  here.  And  Sally  told  me  she  should 
be  out  to  Melrose.  There  won't  be  nobody  but  you 
and  me,  and  I  don't  think  it's  worth  while  bothering 
about  the  turkey.  I've  got  to  go  at  one  to  help  'em 
at  Miss  Scarlett's.  They'll  have  a  heap  of  people  to 
morrow,  and  I  told  Miss  Scarlett  't,  if  I  could,  I'd 
come  round.  It  would  be  a  plague  to  you  to  be  fussing 
over  the  gravy,  if  we  had  the  turkey  ;  so  I  guess  we 
won't  have  none.  When  I  get  home  from  Miss 
Scarlett's  I'll  just  roll  out  a  little  paste,  and  I  can  mix 
up  and  kind  o'  stew  a  few  cran'bries  'fore  I  go  to  bed  ; 
and  if  you'd  stone  some  raisins,  as  you  sit  hereto-day, 
I'll  mix  a  little  plum  pudding  to-morrow,  and  we'll  call 
that  our  Thanksgiving." 

The  old  lady  expressed  her  entire  satisfaction,  said 
she  should  eat  no  turkey  herself,  if  they  had  any  ;  that 
she  thought  it  would  be  as  much  bother  to  her  as  it 
would  be  to  Hepzibah.  And  they  thus  disguised  from 
each  other  the  truth,  which  was  perfectly  well  known 
to  both  of  them,  that  a  turkey  for  Thanksgiving  was 
as  unattainable  as  was  Aladdin's  roc  or  a  roc's  egg, 
had  they  taken  any  fancy  that  way. 

At  noon  the  two  took  another  cup  of  tea  together 
and  each  ate  a  cold  sausage.  Hepzibah  said  she  was 
rather  in  a  hurry  to  get  round  to  Miss  Scarlett's,  be 
cause  they  would  not  be  able  to  do  nothing  till  she  got 
there,  and  would  be  kinder  expecting  her.  She  would 
not  get  a  regular  dinner,  therefore,  at  home,  unless  her 
mother  particularly  wished  it.  Her  mother  replied 


182  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

that  she  did  not  feel  much  like  eating,  and  had  thought 
of  suggesting  that  they  should  not  set  the  table  for 
dinner,  but  have  a  bit  of  bread  and  butter  and  a  cup 
of  tea.  So  they  were  both  satisfied,  or  pretended  to 
be,  and  Hepzibah  went  to  Miss  Scarlett's. 

She  had  not  been  gone  more  than  half  an  hour  when 
the  old  lady,  sitting  in  that  eternal  darkness,  was  roused 
from  her  after-luncheon  doze  by  a  rap  at  the  door. 
She  cried,  ''Come  in!"  as  loudly  as  her  weak  old 
voice  would  say  so  ;  and  Miss  Maria  entered,  cheerily 
and  cordially.  She  was  no  stranger  in  the  place,  and 
Mrs.  Brown  recognized  her  knock,  step,  and  voice 
immediately.  Miss  Maria  was  a  little  disappointed 
that  she  did  not  find  Hepzibah  ;  but  was  glad  to  find 
she  had  "got  work."  She  inquired  carefully  about 
Mrs.  Brown's  health  ;  and,  which  was  much  more  to  the 
point,  listened  faithfully  and  patiently  to  the  old  lady's 
answer — a  thing  philanthropists  are  not  quite  so  sure 
to  do  as  they  are  to  make  the  proper  inquiries.  Miss 
Maria  then  said  she  thought  times  were  going  to  mend, 
and  that  it  would  be  a  mild  winter,  and  that  work 
would  be  more  plenty  than  ever,  and  that  she  thought 
Hepzibah  would  have  more  than  she  could  do  ;  for 
which  opinions  I  am  afraid  Miss  Maria  was  largely  in 
debted  to  a  cheerful  temper.  Still,  as  she  held  them, 
in  a  certain  form,  I  am  glad  that  she  expressed  them 
to  poor  old  Mrs.  Brown,  who  certainly  needed  all  the 
comfort  she  could  pick  up,  and  whose  means  of  know 
ing  the  "  mind  of  the  street"  on  such  subjects  were 
limited.  Then  Miss  Maria  said  she  could  not  make  a 
long  call,  and  came  to  the  proper  object  of  her  visit. 

She  went  to  the  door,  and,  with  her  own  red  right 
hand,  brought  in  the  turkey,  which  she  had  waiting 
there  for  a  surprise.  Ah  me  !  There  was  no  need  of 


HEPZIBAir§   TURKEYS.  183 

leaving  it  outside  to  surprise  old  Mrs.  Brown.  Miss 
Maria  might  have  brought  in  a  feather-bed  on  her  back, 
and  the  old  lady  would  not  have  known  it  in  that 
eternal  midnight. 

As  it  was,  Miss  Maria  brought  in  her  plump  eleven- 
pounder,  and  put  it  on  the  table  at  the  old  lady's  side, 
and  explained  that  the  young  ladies  at  the  Bible-class 
had  arranged  the  dinner,  as  a  surprise  for  Hepzibah, 
and  made  as  if  she  had  herself  nothing  to  do  with  the 
affair.  Then  she  tapped  at  the  window,  and  Phineas 
came  up-stairs  from  the  doorway,  where  he  had  been 
waiting  for  the  proper  moment  in  the  surprise,  with  the 
sugar  and  tea  and  cranberries  and  squashes,  the  cheese 
and  apples,  and  the  bag  of  flour.  She  explained  what 
these  "  fixin's"  were,  and  was  about  to  leave  some 
what  abruptly,  when  the  old  lady,  who  was  really  very 
thankful  and  behaved  very  sweetly  through  the  whole, 
asked  her  if  Phineas  would  mind  putting  all  the  things 
into  the  store-closet,  and  laying  the  turkey  on  a  certain 
shelf  which  she  described,  high  above  the  highest  flight 
of  the  cat  in  the  back  entry.  For,  she  said,  it  occurred 
to  her  that  it  would  be  very  good  fun  to  surprise  Hep 
zibah  when  she  came  back  from  Miss  Scarlett's.  I  ought 
perhaps  to  mention,  in  this  place,  that  it  was  now  forty 
years  since  "  Miss"  Scarlett  had  been  united  in 
marriage  to  the  Hon.  Le  Fevre  Scarlett — she  having 
been  Miss  Lilian  White — and  that  the  title  "  Miss"  was 
merely  the  form  used  by  the  aborigines  in  describing 
the  condition  of  honorable  wedlock. 

Phineas  gladly  fell  in  with  all  Mrs.  Brown's  devices, 
and  the  stores  were  concealed,  according  to  her  order. 
She  had  relapsed  into  stoning  the  raisins,  after  knitting 
a  few  rounds  on  a  long  stocking,  which  "  Miss" 
Plumptre  had  sent  the  yarn  for,  and  which  was  to  be 


184  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

sent  to  a  Maori  chieftain  when  it  was  finished  and  when 
its  companion  was  finished,  when  she  was  aroused  again 
by  the  sharp  closing  of  the  outer  door  down-stairs. 
There  was  no  room  for  question  as  to  the  step  on  the 
stairs  this  time.  Men  and  angels  knew  that  step  as  the 
step  of  Officer  Fosdick,  who  was  this  week  on  the  day 
patrol  in  Lucas  Street  ;  and  Mrs.  Brown,  who  was 
neither  a  man  nor  an  angel,  knew  it  as  well  as  if  she 
had  been  both  at  once.  Hastily  she  ran  through  the 
little  catalogue  of  her  sins  and  Hepzibah's,  inquiring 
which  of  them  fell  within  the  category  of  crimes  pro 
hibited  by  the  law.  She  was  certain  that  they  had  not 
thrown  marbles  at  an  auctioneer,  as  Harry  Griggs  did, 
and  was  sent  to  Westborough  for  doing  it.  Certainly 
they  had  not  lifted  ribbons  from  Mudge's,  as  that 
odious  Miss  Farrelly  did,  in  the  next  house,  when  the 
neighborhood  was  disgraced  by  her  arrest.  She  knew 
that  the  pipes  and  faucets  had  not  been  protected 
against  the  cold  ;  but  she  did  not  believe  that  there 
yet  had  been  any  frost  hard  enough  to  catch  them,  and 
she  and  Hepsie  were,  as  usual,  running  for  luck,  in 
the  hope  that  there  might  not  be.  As  Officer  Fosdick 
stumped  up  the  stairs  Mrs.  Brown  thus  exhausted  her 
catalogue  of  crime,  and  with  conscious  innocence 
uttered  a  severe  "  Come  in  !" 

"  How  do,  Miss  Smith  ?"  said  Officer  Fosdick,  civil 
ly  enough.  '  Thanky  mum,  I'm  pretty  well  myself. 
Isn't  your  daughter  to  home  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Brown,  still  with  conscious  in 
nocence  and  greatly  aggrieved.  "  Hepzibah  is  not  at 
home."  Was  she  to  rejoice  or  not  at  her  absence? 
Suppose  Hepzibah  were  to  be  arrested  at  some  distance 
from  home,  what  would  become  of  Mrs.  Brown  ? 

"  Sorry,  mum,"  said  Officer  Fosdick  ;   "  but  it's  just 


HEPZIBAH'S  "TURKEYS.  185 

as  well,  seeing  you  are."  Horiiblc  suspense  to  Mrs. 
Brown  !  Suppose  she  were  arrested  and  haled  to 
prison,  as  Paul  and  Silas  were  at  Philippi,  what  would 
happen  when  Hepzibah  returned  ? 

But  the  suspense  did  not  last  many  seconds.  Officer 
Fosdick  continued,  in  a  tone  which  showed  that  he  was 
well  pleased  : 

'  The  captain  sends  his  compliments,  mum,  to  you 
and  your  daughter,  mum  ;  and  here's  a  turkey,  mum, 
for  Thanksgiving.  There's  been  a  little  subscription 
at  the  station,  mum,  to  give  turkeys  to  them  as 
might  not — well,  as  might  not  have  thought  to  buy 
'em,  mum,  and  the  captain  said  himself,  mum,  that  he 
wanted  to  be  sure  you  had  one,  mum." 

It  was  well  that  the  officer's  speech  was  long,  for  Mrs. 
Brown  thought,  at  the  beginning,  that  he  was  announc 
ing  the  same  turkey  which  Miss  Jennings  had  brought. 
But  she  recovered  herself,  without  betraying  the  fact 
that  another  turkey  had  arrived,  which  might  have 
mortified  him.  She  thanked  him  very  courteously,  and 
then,  at  his  request,  "  hefted"  the  turkey;  the  only  way 
by  which  she  could  judge  what  a  "  noble  crittur  it 
was. "  She  then  asked  him  if  he  would  be  so  kind  as  to 
put  it  into  the  closet,  which  she  pointed  out  to  him, 
next  the  stove. 

Officer  Fosdick  did  so.  If  he  were  a  little  surprised 
at  seeing  the  squashes  and  parcels  which  Phineas  had 
left  there,  he  said  nothing.  "  I've  hung  her  up,  mum, 
on  a  nail  they  is  in  the  top  shelf,  mum,"  said  he.  And 
Mrs.  Brown  thanked  him,  and  he  bade  farewell. 

She  fell  back  upon  her  knitting  and  upon  planning 
out  the  devices  by  which  she  would  make  of  the  two 
turkeys  a  surprise  to  Hepzibah  when  she  returned. 
But  she  had  not  knit  twenty  times  round  when  she 


1 86  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

heard  the  outer  door  open  and  shut  again.  Nobody 
ever  rings  at  these  lodging-houses  ;  indeed,  the  bell- 
wires  were  long  since  broken  at  all  of  them.  The  step 
this  time  was  wholly  unknown  to  Mrs.  Brown.  But 
the  stranger  did  not  pass  the  door,  but  knocked 
loudly. 

"  Come  in." 

"  Do  Mrs.  and  Miss  Brown  live  here  ?"  said  the  gray- 
coated  coachman,  whip  in  hand,  who  entered. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Brown.      My  daughter  is  not  at  home." 

"  Just  as  well,  ma'am,"  and  the  man  disappeared. 
But  it  was  to  return  in  a  moment.  "  Mrs.  Cradock 
sends  her  compliments,  and  hopes  Mrs.  Brown  and 
Miss  Brown  will  have  a  pleasant '  Thanksgiving.  And 
Mrs.  Cradock  sends  a  turkey  and  a  few  other  things. 
Where  shall  I  leave  them,  ma'am  ?" 

"  Oh,  just  put  them  on  the  table.  Thank  you  kindly. 
And  tell  Mrs.  Cradock  that  we  are  very  much  obliged, 
I  am  sure.  I  hope  she's  very  well." 

'  Thank  you,  ma'am,  she's  very  well.  Good-by, 
ma'am.  I  can't  leave  my  horses."  And  the  gray 
coachman,  who  to  Mrs.  Brown  was  no  more  gray  than 
green,  disappeared. 

'  Well,  now,"  said  she,  as  she  crossed  and  "  hefted" 
turkey  No.  3,  and  smelled  at  the  heavy  package  of 
Bohea,  and  did  the  same  by  the  two  squash  pies  that 
the  man  had  left — "  well,  now,  how  shall  I  keep  these 
out  of  Hepzibah's  sight?"  Carefully  and  successfully 
she  opened  a  crypt  under  the  sink,  moved  the  pots  all 
to  one  end,  hung  the  turkey  on  a  nail  she  remembered 
there,  and  then  one  by  one  she  placed  the  other  boun 
ties  in  the  store-closet,  as  she  might. 

A  good  deal  flustered,  she  returned  to  her  chair,  to 
find  that  there  were  but  three  needles  in  her  stocking. 


HEPZIBAH'S    T-URKEYS.  187 

This  was  a  serious  matter.  And  Mrs.  Brown  was  on 
her  knees  on  the  floor,  groping  for  the  fourth  needle, 
when  she  heard  another  rat-tat-tat  at  the  door.  She 
hurried  to  her  feet  as  soon  as  she  could  and  gave 
permission  to  enter. 

It  was  Hitty.  Hitty  was  wholly  out  of  breath. 
"  Miss  Brown,  I  was  standing  up  to  the  head  of  the 
court,  and  a  lady  come  by,  and  asked  if  I  knew 
where  Miss  Hepzibah  Brown  lived.  And  I  said  it  was 
No.  7,  up  the  street,  up  one  flight.  And  she  says, 
says  she,  '  I'm  a  little  late  for  my  car,'  says  she — just 
so.  '  Will  you  just  carry  this  turkey  to  Miss  Hepzibah 
Brown,  with  my  love  ?  '  And  then  she  stopped  ;  says 
she,  'It's  Miss  Brown  that  has  a  blind  mother.' 
And  I  said,  yes,  Miss  Hepsy  Brown  had  a  blind 
mother.  And  she  gin  me  ten  cents  for  bringing  it, 
and  here  it  is." 

'Why,  Hitty,"  said  the  old  lady,    amazed,    "who 
was  the  lady  ?" 

"  Don't  know,"  said  Hitty.  "  I  asked  her,  says  I, 
'  Who  shall  I  say  it  is  ?  '  says  I.  And  she  says,  says  she, 
'  Oh,  she'll  know,'  says  she.  So  she  called  the  Norfolk 
House  car,  that  was  passing  ;  and  she  got  in,  she  did  ; 
and  I  come  up  here  with  the  turkey,  and  here  it  is. 
It's  real  heavy,  Miss  Brown,  and  it's  a  beauty.  I 
wish  you  could  see  it,  Miss  Brown.  But  do  just  heft 
it." 

So  Mrs.  Brown  "hefted"  the  turkey,  as  she  had 
hefted  three  others. 

11  And  now,  Hitty,  will  you  help  me  look  for  my 
knitting-needle.  I  was  on  the  floor  looking  for  it." 

"  It's  pretty  dark  this  side  of  the  room,  Miss  Brown. 
Might  I  light  a  lamp  ?" 

Poor  Mrs.  Brown  !     It  was  as  light  to  her  as  it  was 


T88  OUR  CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

by  the  window.  Hitty  lighted  her  lamp,  and  went  on 
her  knees  for  the  exploration.  Rising,  a  little  exhausted 
by  the  bending,  she  cried  out,  "  Here  it  is,  Miss 
Brown." 

"  Where  was  it,  my  dear  child  ?" 
"  Oh,  jest  behind  you,  mum.     Good-by." 
Kitty's  grammar  was  imperfect  ;  but  she  had  native 
politeness  enough  not  to  tell  the  old  lady  that  the  lost 
needle  was  stuck  in  her  back  hair.     Unless  some  one 
reads  to  her  this  story,  she  will  never  know  where  that 
needle  was  till  she  dies. 

She  took  the  needle  and  worked  faithfully  on  upon 
the  Maori  chieftain's  stocking.  Whether  more  turkeys 
would  arrive  she  wondered.  Whether  she  would 
secrete  number  four,  or  leave  it  where  Hitty  laid  it. 
Finally  she  hung  it  on  a  nail  behind  the  door  by 
which  Hepzibah  would  enter.  So  she  knitted  and 
dozed,  and  dozed  and  knitted.  When  the  somewhat 
shaky  clock  which  we  then  had  on  our  church-tower 
struck  seven,  she  laid  down  the  Maori's  garment,  filled 
the  teapot,  put  it  on  the  stove,  and  filled  up  with 
kindling  and  wood.  To  say  true,  Mrs.  Brown  had 
wrapped  her  shawl  tight  round  her  as  the  afternoon 
passed,  but  had  made  no  more  fire  than  Hepzibah  had 
left.  She  knew  that  Hepzibah  might  leave  "  Miss 
Scarlett's"  as  early  as  seven. 

But  it  was  eight  and  after  before  Hepzibah  came. 
The  tea-kettle  had  boiled  long  before  (or  the  water  in 
it),  and  had  been  set  back  to  the  rear  of  the  stove,  for 
a  decorous  simmer  there.  At  last  the  well- known  step 
sounded  on  the  stair,  and  the  hard-worked,  long- 
waited-for  absentee  returned.  She  slyly  laid  down  in 
the  sink  something  heavy  which  she  had  in  her  hand, 
and  came  to  her  mother  and  kissed  her  ;  a  token  wholly 


HEPZIBAH'S   TURKEYS.  189 

unusual   ancJ   unexpected    in   that    establishment,    in 
which  no  sentiment  was  ever  wasted. 

"  What  do  you  think,  mammy,  dear  ?  I've  changed 
my  mind,  and  we  will  have  a  Thanksgiving  dinner, 
after  all." 

"  How  did  she  know  ?"  This  was  Mrs.  Brown's  only 
thought. 

"  You  see,  we  had  to  fly  round  at  Miss  Scarlett's,  I 
tell  you.  They're  going  to  have  all  his  brothers,  and 
her  sisters,  and  two  judges  from  England,  and  I  dunno 
what  all,  to  dinner — goin'  to  set  the  table  cornerwise 
in  the  big  parlor  of  all  ;  and  then  they  have  a  late  tea 
and  supper  together,  and  have  all  the  cousins  'way 
from  West  Newton  and  Brahntry — seventy- four  in  all. 
Jane  Scarlett  says  to  me,  says  she,  '  Ther'll  be  sev 
enty-four  in  all,  if  the  weather's  fine  ;  so  Miss  Byfield 
ken  bring  in  her  twins, '  says  she.  And  their  famous 
Mrs.  Midge,  the  grand  cook,  that  they  spoke  for  three 
months  ago — she  that  makes  their  Marlboroughs  and 
their  open-top  apple-pies — she  hadn't  come  nigh  'em 
when  I  got  there  ;  and  Miss  Scarlett  and  Jane  Scarlett 
had  to  take  hold  themselves,  and  I  had  to  spring  to, 
I  tell  you  ;  and  we  have  had  a  smart  time  of  it  since 
I  was  here.  Well,  I  had  my  tea  there  ;  and  just  as  I 
come  away  Miss  Scarlett,  says  she,  '  Hepsy,'  says  she, 
'  you  let  John  go  home  with  you,'  says  she,  '  and  let 
him  carry  this  turkey,'  says  she,  '  for  your  mother,' 
says  she  ;  '  for,'  says  she,  '  your  mother  won't  feel  like 
going  out  to-morrow,  Hepsy,'  says  she,  '  and  so,'  says 
she,  '  she  better  have  her  turkey  to  home,  Hepsy,'  says 
she.  '  She  did,'  says  she.  So  here's  your  turkey, 
mammy.  He's  a  beauty.  Do  just  heft  him." 

And  Mrs.  Brown  hefted  the  fifth  turkey.  She  was 
a  little  grieved  to  find  the  wind,  in  a  measure,  taken 


190  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

out  of  her  sails  ;  but  she  concealed  her  grief,  and  in  the 
darkness  Hepzibah  did  not  observe  her  expression. 
While  she  was  busying  herself  in  replenishing  the  fire, 
Mrs.  Brown  crossed  the  room  and  lifted  down  No.  4,  so 
that  he  lay  by  the  side  of  No.  5.  Then,  as  Hepsy  rose 
from  her  puffing  and  blowing,  and  lighted  the  lamp, 
she  saw  in  a  moment  that  there  were  twins  where  she 
had  laid  but  one  turkey  ;  and  then  the  old  lady  was 
well  satisfied  with  her  amazement. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  she  went  on — how,  when 
Hepsy  opened  the  closet,  to  find  No.  2,  and  the  stores 
which  surrounded  him,  the  good  old  soul  had  one 
triumph  more  ;  how  then,  by  clumsy  artifices,  she 
made  her  look  under  the  sink  for  No.  3  ;  and  at  last 
fairly  sent  her  into  the  back  entry  to  see  No.  1 
upon  his  supra-feline  shelf.  A  jolly  evening  had 
Mrs.  Brown  and  Hepzibah  with  their  jorums  of 
tea  from  Miss  Maria's  paper  and  with  the  successive 
surprises. 

They  had  both  got  to  bed,  and  the  light  was  blown 
out,  when  the  outer  door  swung  open  again,  and  one 
more  tramp  was  to  be  heard  on  the  stairway. 

"  Gracious,  mercy  !  More  turkeys  !"  cried  Mrs. 
Brown. 

"  No,"  groaned  Hepsy,  "it  is  not  turkeys  this  time. 
It's  that  drunken  MacDonnell  thundering  up  to  beat 
his  wife  again." 

Drunk  or  sober,  the  thunderer  stopped  at  Hepsy's 
door  and  knocked. 

"  Who's  there?" 

"  Adams's  Express.  Parcel  to  be  left  to-night. 
Marked  '  without  fail,'  "'  replied  the  thunderer,  more 
good-naturedly  than  was  to  be  expected. 

Hepsy  was  striking  a  match.     She  arranged  some 


HEPZIBAH' S    T&RKEYS.  191 

N 

hurried  and  superficial  toilet,  and  in  a  couple  of  min 
utes  opened  a  crack  of  the  door. 

"You  must  give  me  more  room,  mum,  or  I  can't 
get  him  in,"  said  the  good-natured  thunderer. 

"Him?     Who  is  he?" 

But  as  Hepsy  opened  the  door  wider,  he  appeared. 
The  largest  turkey  of  all,  with  his  wings  not  clipped  off. 

"  Orders  are  strict  to  be  delivered  to-night.  Train 
late,  mum — hopped  a  frog  at  Wilmington  Junction. 
Guess  the  turkey's  for  Thanksgiving." 

This  last  with  a  broad  grin,  as  if  the  purpose  might 
be  questionable. 

Sure  enough,  to  Hepzibah's  wondering  eyes  there 
appeared  a  large  label  :  "  To  Miss  Hepzibah  Brown, 
No.  7  Lucas  Street,  second  floor,  with  the  respects  of 
Ezekiel  Hopkins.  To  be  delivered  this  evening, 
WITHOUT  FAIL."  The  gigantic  letters  at  the  close 
were  enough  to  have  alarmed  or,  at  least,  excited  any 
reasonable  expressman  ;  nor  had  they  failed. 

Now,  Ezekiel  Hopkins  was  a  tinman  from  Ipswich, 
who  had  been  on  the  steamer  "  Creole"  when  Hepsy 
and  her  mother  joined  in  the  Foresters'  excursion  in 
the  harbor,  in  September. 

"  Please  receipt,  mum,"  said  the  well-satisfied 
thunderer.  And  with  trembling  hand  Hepzibah 
signed  the  receipt  in  his  book.  She  bade  the 
thunderer  'good-night  and  retired  this  time  to  un 
broken  slumbers. 

Yes,  Mathilde,  to  slumbers.  She  had  had  a  turkey 
sent  her  from  Ezekiel  Hopkins.  But  she  had  scoured 
floors  all  the  morning  and  worked  loyally  at  the 
Scarlett's  till  near  eight  in  the  evening,  and  so  she  slept 
soundly,  and  would  have  done  so  had  Ezekiel  Hopkins 
sent  three  turkeys. 


192  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

THANKSGIVING  MORNING. 

I  am  ashamed  to  confess  that,  when,  the  next  Sun 
day,  Hepzibah  Brown  gave  me  the  heads  of  this  story, 
briefly,  as  we  left  the  church  together,  I  was  carnal 
enough  to  say  : 

"  Well,  I  suppose  Silas  Brackett  was  glad  to  take  off 
your  hands  all  the  turkeys  you  could  not  use." 

Now,  Silas  Brackett  kept  the  "  provision  store,"  as 
we  Yankees  call  a  small  meat  market,  at  the  corner. 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  Hepzibah,  as  proudly  as  Juno  ; 
"  but  he  had  no  turkeys  of  mine  to  sell." 

And  I  was  thoroughly  shamed  when  she  added  : 

"  I  knew  plenty  of  poor  people  that  had  no  Thanks 
giving  dinner." 

The  emphasis  on  poor  was  superb.  For  once,  Hepsy 
had  had  the  satisfaction  of  dispensing  charity  ;  and  no 
Mrs.  Cradock,  or  Officer  Fosdick,  or  Maria  Jennings  of 
them  all  would  discharge  that  office  more  grandly  nor 
more  kindly  than  she. 

She  told  me  nothing  about  it  ;  but  there  was  little 
which  passed  in  Lucas  Street,  or  Carney  Place,  or 
Orange  Lane  in  those  days,  which  was  not  reported 
before  the  week  was  over  to  one  or  other  of  the 
saints  who  were  at  work  in  our  sewing-room,  and  with 
out  much  difficulty  I  was  able  to  patch  out  the  story  I 
now  tell  to  you. 

Hepsy  and  her  mother  slept  late  on  Thanksgiving 
morning.  There  was  no  "  day's  work"  to  be  grateful 
for,  at  which  one  must  report  at  seven  o'clock,  break 
fast  already  eaten.  Hepsy  took  the  good  of  her  bed, 
for  once,  and  then  made  a  fire  lavishly.  She  had  a 
\veek's  provant  in  the  house,  and  that  was  a  very  long 
forelock  for  her.  A  sumptuous  breakfast  she  and  Mrs. 


HEPZIBAH'S    TURKEY S.  193 

Brown  made  ;  and  then  Hepsy  assumed  the  Lady 
Bountiful,  as  if  she  had  been  born  to  the  position. 

"  I  hate  to  leave  you,  mother  ;  but  it's  Thanksgiv 
ing  day,  and  I  think,  before  meeting,  I'll  just  step 
round  into  Orange  Lane,  and  see  how  those  poor 
Flannagans  get  on.  I  hadn't  any  time  to  go  and  see 
them  yesterday.  We  sha'n't  want  to  put  our  turkey 
in  the  oven  before  eleven.  I'll  just  stuff  him  and  get 
him  ready  now,  and  then  I'll  be  back  in  time  to  put 
him  in.  Perhaps  you  would  not  mind  pounding  the 
cracker. ' ' 

All  this  without  the  slightest  allusion  to  the  theory 
of  yesterday  morning's  breakfast,  that  the  roasting  of 
the  turkey  would  be  a  useless  bother. 

So  they  quickly  got  the  great  fowl  ready,  and  then 
Hepsy  arrayed  herself  in  her  Sunday's  best  for  her  visit 
to  the  Flannagans.  Ah  me !  That  was  what  the 
philanthropists  are  apt  to  say  is  "  not  a  good  case." 
Indeed,  it  was  not  a  good  case.  Hepsy  went  in 
cordially,  but  with  a  consciousness  of  her  dignity  and 
position,  and  of  the  distinction  which  must  be  preserved 
between  the  classes  of  society.  Mrs.  Flannagan,  care 
worn  and  wretched,  welcomed  her  and  wiped  the  seat 
of  the  only  chair  with  her  apron.  Hepsy  inquired 
by  name  after  the  children,  and  then  how  Mike  was 
doing.  "  How  do  you  do?"  means  one  thing,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Whitehead  or  my  dear  Mrs.  Lovechild, 
when  Fanny  comes  running  into  your  parlor,  and  says, 
'  How  do  you  do  ?"  to  you.  But  when  you  ask  how 
Mike  Flannagan  is  doing,  the  question  means  simply 
is  he  getting  along  without  making  a  beast  of  himself 
or  no.  Alas  !  Mike  was  not  doing  well.  He  had 
assisted  in  a  turkey  raffle  the  night  before  to  such 
purpose  that  he  had  spent  all  the  money  which  they 


194  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

would  advance  him  at  Hinckley's,  that  he  had  won  no 
turkey,  and  that  he  had  been  brought  back  at  one  in 
the  morning  by  Britt  and  Flinders,  who  were  only  not 
quite  so  drunk  as  he  was.  Mrs.  Flannagan  pointed 
sadly  into  the  dark  alcove,  on  the  straw  on  the  bottom 
of  which  Mike  was  sleeping  off  his  whiskey,  much  as  a 
pig  might  sleep  in  the  covered  part  of  his  stye. 

'  Too  bad,"  said  Hepsy.  '  Too  bad,  Mary.  Hang 
ing  is  not  good  enough  for  them  that  give  him  the 
liquor.  But  he's  well  at  home  now.  I'll  come  round 
in  the  morning  with  Mac,  and  we'll  make  him  take  the 
pledge  before  he  goes  out.  Don't  you  say  a  word  to 
him  to-day.  I  came  'round  because  I  want  Larry  for 
an  hour  or  two  ;  and  if  you  will  let  him  come  with  me 
he  shall  bring  you  a  nice  turkey  for  your  Thanksgiving 
dinner.  So  do  you  take  heart,  Mary,  and  you  shall 
have  a  good,  pleasant  Thanksgiving,  after  all.  You 
see  my  turkey  raffle  turned  out  better  than  Mike's." 

Poor  Mary  would  not  laugh,  but  she  gave  her  consent 
gladly  enough  to  Larry's  going  with  Hepsy,  and 
Hepsy  started  in  search  of  him  among  the  boys  who 
were  skating  on  the  frozen  puddle  behind  the  stables. 

Larry,  as  need  hardly  be  said,  was  immensely 
excited  by  the  commission.  He  borrowed  Hiram 
Flinders's  four-wheel,  when  he  found  what  was  in  the 
wind  ;  went  back  with  Hepsy  to  Lucas  Street,  took  in 
his  freight,  and  decorously  accompanied  her,  with  as 
much  dignity  as  Mrs.  Cradock's  coachman  would  have 
shown  on  the  morning's  expedition.  First  they  came 
back  to  his  mother's  ;  and  Mrs.  Flannagan  had  to  take 
a  regular  talking  to  from  Lady  Bountiful  as  to  how  the 
turkey  was  to  be  stuffed  and  basted.  Let  us  trust  that 
she  obeyed  the  injunctions.  Then  they  went  to  little 
Mrs,  Serz,  in  the  cellar  in  Castle  Street.  Hepsy  worked 


HEPZIBAirS    TURKEYS.  195 

her  way  in  with  some  difficulty,  for  the  muslin  skirt  of 
Gertrude  MacFlimsey  hung  across  the  room  from  one 
side  to  another,  as  it  was  drying.  In  the  window 
corner  Mrs.  Serz  was  doing  crimping,  or  fluting,  or 
clear  starching,  or  some  deed  without  a  name. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Serz." 

"  Gut  en  Morgen,  guten  Morgen." 

"  A  nice  day  for  Thanksgiving,  Miss  Serz." 

' '  Nicht  verstehe,  nicht  verstehe. ' ' 

"  Glad  to  see  you  so  well.  But  it's  a  shame  you 
have  to  work  on  Thanksgiving. ' ' 

' '  Nicht  verstehe,  nicht  verstehe. ' ' 
'  Thank  you  kindly,  she's  very  well.      We   had    a 
turkey  we  could  not  use,  Mrs.  Serz,  and  I  thought  you 
might  like  it." 

Mrs.  Serz  was  a  little  amazed  by  this  time,  and 
looked  for  Constance,  who  could  interpret  a  little. 
But  Hepsy  was  before  her,  and  called  in  Larry. 

"  Here's  the  turkey,  Miss  Serz.  And  if  you  have  got 
a  little  cracker,  you  can  pound  it  with  sweet  marjoram. 
We  think  that  makes  better  stuffing,  in  our  country, 
than  bread  and  onions  do. ' '  This  last  she  said  very  loud, 
from  the  fear  that  it  might  not  be  entirely  intelligible. 

Mrs.  Serz  looked  with  amazement  at  the  turkey, 
wiped  her  hands  and  "  hefted"  him,  and  said  : 

' '  Dankc,  danke. ' ' 

"  I  say  without  onions.  Onions  are  better  with 
geese.  But  I  put  in  this  little  paper  of  sweet  marjoram. 
It  is  some  I  brought  from  Tuxbury. "  This  last  very 
loud,  as  Mrs.  Serz  seemed  somewhat  doubtful. 

<4  Danke,  danke  "  said  that  lady  again. 

And  Hepsy  withdrew.  Larry  followed,  crestfallen. 
Why  did  she  say  "  Donkey,"  he  asked  Miss  Hepsy, 
meekly.  But  Miss  Hepsy  returned  no  answer. 


196  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

"  Larry,"  said  she,  after  a  little  consideration,  "  we 
must  go  next  to  Phil  Regan's  ;  and  then  we  will  come 
back  by  Suffolk  Street,  to  them  Eyetallians. " 

To  Phil  Regan's  attic  they  repaired,  therefore.  Phil 
was  not  at  home.  He  was  blacking  shoes  at  the 
Albany  Station.  But  Phil's  smart  little  sister  Florence 
was  in,  and  the  other  two  little  ones.  No  school.  So 
Hepsy  took  off  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  mixed  the 
cracker  crumbs  to  suit  herself,  and  explained  carefully 
to  Florence  how  she  wished  to  have  the  turkey  basted, 
and  with  her  own  hands  put  it  into  the  pan  and  put 
the  pan  into  the  oven,  giving  Florence  strict  directions 
how  to  tend  it  and  watch  over  it  till  Phil  returned. 
Brave  Phil  Regan,  the  head  of  that  household  !  I 
wonder  where  he  is  to-day,  and  whether  he  will  read 
this.  He  was  just  then  fourteen  years  old. 

At  the  Eyetallians  much  such  a  scene  transpired  as  at 
Mrs.  Serz's,  Hepsy  being  wholly  ignorant  of  any  dialect 
of  the  Tuscan  tongue  ;  and  the  Eyetallians,  who  had 
come  on  from  New  York  only  ten  days  before,  equally 
ignorant  of  English.  But  there  was  no  misunderstand 
ing  Miss  Hepsy's  kindness  of  intention  ;  and  as  she 
spoke  very  loud  here,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the 
Eyetallians  understood  the  greater  part  of  her  direc 
tions  to  them.  Anyway,  the  two  women,  with  many 
"grazie,"  took  the  turkey  as  gently  as  if  it  had  been  a 
baby,  and  Hepsy,  in  a  thorough  examination  of  the 
attic,  well-nigh  empty,  was  soon  satisfied  that  no  one 
had  been  before  her  there.  Nay,  she  even  wondered 
whether  in  the  calendar  of  these  poor  Roman  Catholics 
the  name  of  "  Thanksgiving"  had  ever  come  in  before. 
But  by  mentioning  it  sufficiently  loudly  she  felt  sure 
that  she  should  fix  it  in  their  minds. 

As   they    went   back   toward    Lucas   Street,  Larry 


HEPZIBAH'S   TVRKEYS. 


197 


following  behind,  a  carriage,  driving  fast,  passed 
them. 

"  Miss  Hepsy,  Miss  Hepsy  !"  cried  Larry,  out  of 
breath.  "  Sure  as  I  live,  there's  your  mother  goin* 
to  ride." 

44  Nonsense,  Larry.     None  of  your  stuff. " 

44  I  say,  Miss  Hepsy,  it  was  your  mother,  sure  as 
I  live  and  breathe." 

44  Hold  your  tongue,  Larry." 

And  he  held  it. 

But  when  Hepsy  had  climbed  the  stairway  to  her 
own  home,  sure  enough  the  bird  had  flown.  Mrs. 
Brown  was  not  there.  Nobody  was  there. 

Hepsy  ran  into  the  bedroom  in  a  fright.  No  mother 
there.  She  came  back  to  Larry,  and  questioned  him. 
He  was  stanch  in  saying  that  the  old  lady  was  in  the 
kerridge. 

Hepsy  returned  amazed  to  the  sitting-room  which 
her  mother  had  not  left  without  her  for  five  years 
and  more. 

As  she  entered  it  by  one  door,  the  door  to  the  back 
passage  opened  also,  and  two  fresh,  pretty  girls  came 
out,  one  bearing  Miss  Maria's  turkey  in  state,  and  the 
other  following  with  a  dredging-box  and  an  armful  of 
other  cooking  tools. 

44  O  Hepsy,  you  have  caught  us.     That's  too  bad  !" 

And  they  all  laughed  heartily. 

It  was  Ruth  Faxon  and  Fanny  Melcher.  They  had 
come  round  with  Mrs.  Granger,  resolved  to  make  Mrs. 
Brown  and  Hepsy  go  off  to  meeting,  while  they  cooked 
the  turkey.  Hepsy  was  to  be  free  from  care  that  day, 
if  it  could  be  managed. 

44  And  now,  you  provoking  old  thing,  you  went  and 
stayed  out  till  the  bell  had  done  tolling,  and  you  have 


198  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

spoiled  all.  But  we  dressed  up  your  dear  old  mother, 
and  Mrs.  Granger  has  carried  her  away  ;  and  don't  you 
think,  Hepsy,  now,  that  you  had  better  go,  too,  and 
tell  us  what  the  text  is?" 

"  Fiddlestick  for  the  text,"  said  Hepsy,  hanging  up 
her  go-to-meeting  shawl  and  bonnet  in  her  chamber, 
and  coming  out  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  as  if  she, 
too,  were  going  into  action. 

'What  do  you  mean  by  interfering  with  other 
people's  work?"  said  Fanny  ;  and  she  took  her  fast 
by  both  arms  and  pushed  her  back  into  her  mother's 
deep  arm-chair. 

'  There,  you  provoking  old  thing,  if  you  do  mean 
to  stay  and  spy  on  us,  sit  there,  and  see  if  we  do  not 
know  how  to  do  it  right.  You  are  a  fine  lady  to-day, 
just  recovering  from  a  fit  of  neuralgia,  and  you  have  just 
stepped  into  your  kitchen  for  a  minute,  to  see  if  these 
two  girls,  that  have  just  come  down  from  Nova  Scotia 
and  want  a  place  together,  know  beans  or  not.  Oh 
dear  !  I  have  not  had  such  a  lark  since  we  were  all  at 
the  Winthrop  together  !" 

The  Winthrop,  dear  Matilda,  was  not  a  hotel,  but  a 
school,  where  these  three  girls  had  studied  arithmetic, 
side  by  side,  under  Miss  Barry's  eye,  when  they  were 
all  fourteen  years  old. 

And  a  genuine  lark  they  had  of  it.  Neatly  and 
deftly  these  two  girls  prepared  and  baked  the  turkey, 
boiled  the  squash,  baked  the  potatoes,  thickened  the 
gravy,  sweetened  the  cranberry  to  Hepsy's  taste,  and, 
in  short,  made  all  things  ready  for  the  dinner.  They 
asked  her  for  her  orders  sometimes  ;  but  when  she 
herself  undertook  to  do  anything  one  or  other  of  them 
pushed  her  back  into  the  easy- chair.  Ruth  gave  her 


HEPZIBAirS    TURKEYS.  199 

a  smelling-bottle,  which  she  raked  out  from  a  deep 
pocket,  and  folded  a  New  York  Ledger  into  a  great 
fan,  and  made  her  hold  the  fan  in  one  hand  and  salts  in 
the  other.  Hepsy  entered  into  the  joke  as  much  as 
they  did,  and  took  airs  admirably  well. 

By  the  time  Mrs.  Brown  had  come  home,  the  dinner 
was  cooked,  the  table  was  neatly  set,  and  every 
thing  was  ready. 

"  Hepsy,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  come  here."  And 
she  whispered  to  her  daughter. 

Hepsy  laughed,  and  said  openly  to  the  girls  that  her 
mother  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  festivity,  that 
she  wanted  to  bring  out  her  silver  spoons.  And,  sure 
enough,  the  six  teaspoons  and  the  six  tablespoons  were 
produced  from  the  old  lady's  trunk — the  one  wreck 
from  old  prosperity. 

"  I  do  not  choose  to  use  them  every  day,"  said 
Hepsy,  laughing,  *'  we  have  such  queer  people  round 
us.  But  to-day  mammy  feels  grand." 

And  then  the  two  girls  went  away,  only  feeling  a 
little  dashed,  as  pretty  Ruth  Faxon  confessed  to  me, 
that  they  left  the  two  all  alone. 

The  minute  they  were  gone,  before  dinner  began, 
Hepsy  dashed  into  the  back  entry  and  seized  turkey 
No.  6,  which  Fanny  had  left  all  dressed  and  ready  for 
the  oven,  put  him  in  a  pan,  and  slid  it  into  the  stove. 
"  I'm  not  going  to  waste  this  good  fire,"  said  she. 
"  And  I  like  a  cold  turkey  about  as  well  as  I  do  a  warm 
one.  This  will  do  for  Sunday's  dinner." 

The  old  lady  said  that,  of  the  two,  she  was  not  sure 
but  sometimes  she  liked  a  cold  turkey  better  than  a 
warm  one.  Just  now  she  was  glad  they  had  a  hot  one. 
The  opinion,  you  see,  was  rather  a  difficult  one  to 


300  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IX  A    PALACE. 

form  and  to  express.  But  Mrs.  Brown  had  long  ex 
perience  in  contentedness.  Turkey  No.  6  being  well 
slid  into  the  oven,  dinner  began. 

But  scarcely  had  Hepzibah  begun  her  carving  when 
steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs,  which  indicated  a 
party. 

"  I  guess  Miss  Meldrum  has  company,"  said  she. 

No.     It  was  not  Miss  Meldrum. 

Knock  at  the  door — double  knock. 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  tht  old  lady.  "'Nother 
turkey,  Hepsy  ?" 

For  Mrs.  Brown  was  up  to  joking-mark  now.  Hepsy 
opened  the  door. 

"  Well  now  !"  "  How  do  you  do  ?"  "  And  how 
do  you  do?"  "Well!  what  luck  !"  "Who'd  a 
thought  it?"  "  And  there's  your  mother."  "  How 
d  ye  do,  Aunt  Rachel  ?"  "  But  who  is  it  ?"  "  Well, 
now  !"  "  Well,  now  !"  Scatter  these  ejaculations  as 
you  please,  and  you  get  the  interview.  They  were 
cousins  of  Hepzibah's,  whom  she  had  not  seen  for 
fifteen  years.  They  were  on  their  way  from  New 
York  to  Cape  Elizabeth,  to  dine  at  Hepsy's  uncle. 
Boat  was  delayed,  and  they  had  missed  their  train. 
Thought  they  would  hunt  up  Hepsy  and  take  theif 
Thanksgiving  dinner  with  her,  and  so  go  on  in  the 
night  boat  to  Portland. 

Not  unprosperous  cousins,  you  see.  Cousins  who 
had  no  idea  that  Hepsy  and  her  mother  were  uncom 
fortably  near  the  wall.  Cousins  for  whom  Hepsy  had 
a  certain  respect,  and  she  would  have  hated  to  have 
them  know  her  scrapings  and  worries. 

"  And  here  they  come  in,  Mr.  Hale,  as  nice  and  neat 
as  pins  ;  and  though  I  say  it,  who  should  not,  Mr. 
Hale,  we  was  just  as  nice  as  they  was.  Mother,  she 


HEPZIBAH'S^TURKE  VS.  201 

did  look  real  nice,  Mr.  Hale  ;  real  handsome  she  looked, 
with  her  cap  on.  And  the  table  was  so  pretty — with 
Miss  Granger's  flowers,  and  the  silver,  and  all.  I  did 
not  care  who  they  were  ;  my  dinner  was  as  good  as 
theirs  any  day.  So  they  washed  themselves  and  fixed 
their  hair,  and  sat  down,  all  three  of  them,  they  did. 
And  we  had  a  nice  time,  I  tell  you." 

Hepsy  did  not  tell  me  one  little  incident  of  the 
dinner  ;  but  Mrs.  Meldrum  did. 

As  they  were  finishing  Mrs.  Cradock's  pies,  drink 
ing  their  tea,  and  fooling  with  their  nuts  and  raisins, 
little  Katy  Meldrum  came  in. 

11  Please,  Miss  Hepsy,  mother  says  will  you  lend 
her  a  little  tea?" 

"  Heart's  grace,  Katy.  Of  course,  I  will.  Why, 
Katy,  you  look  cold." 

Katy  whispered  that  they  had  nothing  but  a  little 
kindling. 

"No  coal?  Poor  child  !  Cousin  Hannah,  excuse 
me." 

And  Hepsy  went  into  the  entry  and  carried  up  a  hod 
of  coal  to  the  stricken  widow  up-stairs. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  said,  as  she  came  down,  "  they 
was  all  sitting  round  freezing,  and  Miss  Meldrum  just 
lighting  some  laths  the  boys  had  brought  in  from  the 
new  school-house.  And  they've  nothing  for  their 
dinner  but  some  bread  and  cheese  that  look  as  if  it  was 
cut  last  Sunday.  Here,  Tom,  you  come  in.  Come 
in,  Katy." 

And  she  opened  her  oven  door,  and  with  the  tongs 
pulled  out  No.  6,  and  placed  the  pan  on  a  stout  paper 
in  her  clothes-basket. 

"  Tom,  you  take  one  end.  Katy,  you  take  one. 
Tell  your  mother  I've  been  cooking  her  dinner  for 


202  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

her,  only  I  was  a  little  belated  by  company.  Katy, 
come  down  again.  Here's  plenty  of  squash  pie  and 
two  or  three  pertaters  left.  To  think,"  said  Hepsy,  as 
she  sat  down  a  little  flustered —  "  to  think  of  plenty  and 
hunger  being  so  close  to  each  other.  I  thought  Mr. 
Fosdick  had  taken  the  Meldrums  some  dinner." 

And  then  the  feast  went  on  with  the  three  cousins, 
as  if  this  were  all  an  every-day  occurrence.  They  went 
to  their  graves  with  the  idea  that  Hepsy  was  living  on 
the  fat  of  the  land.  And,  if  any  one  thing  delighted 
Hepsy  more  than  another  in  that  day's  Thanksgiving, 
it  was  that  her  cousins  thought  so. 

Among  them  they  brought  Miss  Maria's  turkey  near 
his  end  ;  but  Hepsy  told  me  that  he  made  a  very  good 
dinner  on  Friday. 

It  may  add  to  the  interest  with  which  this  little  story 
is  read  for  me  to  say  that  it  is  substantially  true  in  all 
its  details. 

The  Independent  asked  me  near  a  year  ago  to  furnish 
a  story  of  true  life  from  my  ministerial  experience. 
On  such  stories  there  is  apt  to  be  a  seal  of  confidence. 
But  I  do  not  see  that  any  of  the  parties  whom,  under 
fictitious  names,  I  have  mentioned  here,  has  reason  to 
be  ashamed  of  his  part  in  the  day,  always  excepting 
Mike  Flannagan. 

I  have  lost  the  run  of  him  ;  but  I  trust  that  he  has 
taken  Father  Mathew's  medal  and  has  reformed. 


And  so   poor   Mrs.    Frechette's   turn  came   round 
again. 

The  pitiless  Hector,  a  little  recovered,  so  soon  as 


AN   INTERMISSION.  203 

there  had  been  a  reasonable  pause  after  his  wife's  story, 
turned,  as  if  surprised,  to  the  programme,  and  read  : 

"  Six.     Mrs.  Frechette  will  read  an  essay." 

She  was  ready  for  him  again.  "  I  observe  with 
pleasure,"  she  said,  "  that  nothing  is  said  about  the 
essay  being  original.  I  had  proposed  to  read,  therefore, 
Lord  Bacon's  '  Essay  on  Gardening,'  which  seems  very 
appropriate  here.  But  talking  with  Mr.  Hackmatack  at 
breakfast,  I  have  found  that  he  had  with  him  a  curious 
discussion  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Ingham,  which  he  has  lent 
me,  as  a  substitute  for  that  paper.  I  would  read  it 
now,  but  my  friend  Caesar  tells  me  that  the  Christmas 
dinner  is  ready,  to  which  all  our  friends  present  are 
invited." 

Sure  enough,  it  was  two  o'clock  already.  With  a 
little  crowding,  the  whole  party  of  passengers  collected 
in  the  dinner  car,  and  the  dinner  went  forward,  really 
much  as  was  proposed  in  Hector's  rodomontade  of  the 
bill  of  fare. 

And  without,  steady  snow — snow — snow,  quiet  drift 
— drift — drift.  Half  the  engine  was  buried  now.  A 
mountain  was  before  it.  The  shovellers  had  given  up 
a  useless  duty.  One  or  two  of  them  were  in  the 
plough.  The  rest  clustered  in  the  forward  car  or  with 
us.  For  all  for  whom  there  was  not  room  in  the 
dinner  car,  Hector  took  care  that  one  and  another  sub 
stantial  dish  should  be  sent  forward  from  the  table. 

And  the  party  sang,  and  laughed,  and  chatted,  and 
ate,  and  drank  at  their  little  tables,  till,  in  spite  of 
them,  the  day  began  to  darken.  It  was  half-past  four. 

"  One  last  song,"  cried  Hector.  "  I  will  sing  you 
a  song  of  one  of  Mrs.  Frechette's  Tory  ancestors." 
And  he  sang  the  old  version  of  the  "  British 
Genadiers." 


204  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

*'  Come,  come,  fill  up  your  glasses, 

And  drink  a  health  to  those 
Who  carry  caps  and  pouches 

And  wear  their  looped  clothes  ; 
For  be  you  Whig  or  Tory, 

Or  any  mortal  thing, 
Be  sure  that  you  give  glory 

To  George,  our  gracious  King  !" 

"  That's  what  they  sang  at  your  Uncle  Tracy's, 
madam.  I  wish  you  would  take  one  more  glass  of 
anise-seed." 

And  so  they  slowly  walked  forward  one  by  one  from 
the  car. 


44  Stay  a  moment,  please,"  said  Paul  Decker  to 
Theodora  Bourn,  as  she  folded  her  napkin  and  stood, 
as  the  stream  passed  by  her. 

"  Please  sit  down  a  moment.  I  want  to  explain  to 
you  what  I  meant  about  learned  women,  when  we  were 
talking  of  Mrs.  Browning.  My — you  know — of  course 
I  should  not  say — well,  my  own  mother — how  I  wish 
you  knew  my  mother,  you  would  like  her  so  ;  she 
is  as  learned  a  woman  as  Lady  Jane  Grey — she  taught 
me  all  my  Greek  when  I  went  to  college — and  she 
keeps  up  with  everything — and  she  is — oh,  she  is  so 
lovely." 

"  O  Mr.  Decker,  I  understood  you,  I  am  sure. 
We  all  know  that  nobody  has  too  much  learning. 
Poor  I  ought  to,  who  never  saw  the  inside  of  a  school- 
house  till  I  was  sixteen." 

"  Worse  things  can  happen  than  that,  I  am  sure," 
said  he  eagerly.  "  What  I  was  driving  at,  when  I 
blundered  so,  was  that  I  do  think  book  people  are  apt 
to  get  lonely,  perhaps  a  little  bit  selfish.  My  old 


AN  INTERMISSION.  205 

mentor-  used  to  say  '  self-culture  '  was  for  the  devil. 
Well  now,  you  don't  know,  I  do  not  suppose  women 
can.  But  I  have  known — well  in  camp  I  have  known — 
plenty  of  men  whose  books  spoiled  them.  They 
could  not  speak  a  good  word  to  a  greaser  or  a 
ranchero.  The  men  hated  them,  and  no  wonder. 
Yet  they  did  not  mean  to  be  bad." 

'  They  could  not  bear  each  other's  burdens." 
"Just   so,  and  so  in  the  end  they  could  not  bear 
their  own  ;  or,  rather,  nobody  would  give  them   any 
to  bear." 

"  I  know,"  said  Theodora,  "  I  know.  I  have  seen 
just  such  people.  There  was  a  man  in  Sacramento — 
but  no  matter  for  him.  I  so  wish  you  had  known  my 
dear  mother.  She  had — oh,  she  had  everything  on 
her  shoulders — but  really,  Mr.  Decker,  if  any  living 
being  came  into  the  room  where  she  was,  she  would 
lay  down  her  book  or  lay  down  her  work,  and  pre 
tend  she  was  doing  nothing,  till  she  could  make  sure 
you  did  not  want  her — that  she  could  not  sew  for  you, 
or  write  for  you,  or  read  to  you,  or  comfort  you.  She 
did  not  know  how  to  think  of  herself." 

"  And  that  is  the  secret  of  it  all,"  he  said,  so  eagerly. 
"And    when    we    come   to  that,    it   all    comes    so 
clear—" 

And  so  they  went  on — strangers  no  longer  now — with 
a  boy's  discoveries  and  now  a  girl's  of  the  mysteries  of 
life,  revenging  themselves  for  the  loneliness  of  these 
months  that  had  been  grinding  by,  in  the  satisfaction 
— what  is  like  it  ? — of  finding  some  one  who  has  gone 
through  something  of  the  same  desolation — each  eager 
to  find  if  the.  other  had  known  this  joy  or  that  sorrow, 
and  each  finding  out,  almost  with  wonder,  that  this 
experience  or  that  of  life,  which  had  seemed  peculiar 


206  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

and  quite  without  precedent,  was  an  experience  which 
the  other  knew. 

They  had  sat  there  talking  for  more  than  an  hour, 
when  they  heard  singing  from  the  palace  car,  and 
Theodora  started.  '  We  are  staying  here  quite  too 
long." 

But  Paul  Decker  did  not  think  so. 

He  almost  lifted  her  across  the  snowy  platform. 

"  You  cannot  be  too  careful  here." 

Mrs.  Frechette  and  Professor  Wisner,  after  they 
found  each  other  out,  had  come  into  loyal  alliance. 

Hector  had  fired  at  random  his  announcement  of 
''Prayer  from  Moses  in  Egypt."  It  seemed  well 
enough  for  wanderers  in  a  desert,  and  that  was  all  he 
had  thought  of.  But  Mrs.  Frechette  knew  the  music 
— indeed,  the  professor  had  the  opera  in  print  in  his 
trunk — and  while  the  others  slept,  or  pretended  to, 
after  dinner,  he  had  rallied  an  efficient  quartette  in  the 
baggage  car,  so  that  when  the  indomitable  Hector 
called  to  order,  Dr.  Wisner  interrupted  him  to  say  : 

"  We  propose  here  and  now  to  introduce  the 
celebrated  prayer  from  Moses,  which  is  the  seventh 
number  on  the  programme."  And  they  so  sang  that 
magnificent  chorus,  that  again  every  man  and  woman 
felt  that  the  form  of  the  celebration  was  not  leading 
them  from  the  genuine  trust  of  Christmas  day. 

Van  Sandfoord  himself  thanked  them  in  the  name 
of  the  assembly,  most  seriously  and  courteously,  and 
then  said,  without  banter  now,  "  I  think  we  are 
promised  an  essay  by  Mr.  Hackmatack." 

"Hardly,"  said  George,  "though  the  paper 
describes  an  essay  or  enterprise  or  experiment  in  my 
life.  In  truth,  I  did  not  write  it.  But  it  may  be  relied 
on,  as  if  I  had  written  it.  It  was  all  written  out  by  a 


IDEALS.  207 

* 

friend  of  mine,  and  Dr.  Wisner  is  so  kind  as  to  read  it 
as  he  put  it  down." 

So  Professor  Wisner  read  the  story  of 

IDEALS. 

I.   IN  ACCOUNT. 

I  have  a  little  circle  of  friends,  among  all  my  other 
friends  quite  distinct,  though  of  them.  They  are  four 
men  and  four  women  ;  the  husbands  more  in  love  with 
their  wives  than  on  the  days  when  they  married  them, 
and  the  wives  with  their  husbands.  These  people  live 
for  the  good  of  the  world,  to  a  fair  extent,  but  much, 
very  much,  of  their  lives  is  passed  together.  Perhaps 
the  happiest  period  they  ever  knew  was  when,  in  dif 
ferent  subordinate  capacities,  they  were  all  on  the  staff 
of  the  same  magazine.  Then  they  met  daily  at  the 
office,  lunched  together  perforce,  and  could  make 
arrangements  for  the  evening. 

But,  tD  say  true,  things  differ  little  with  them  now, 
though  that  magazine  long  since  took  wings  and  went 
to  a  better  world. 

Their  names  are  Felix  and  Fausta  Carter,  Frederic 
and  Mary  Ingham,  George  and  Anna  Haliburton, 
George  and  Julia  Hackmatack. 

I  get  the  children's  names  wrong  to  their  faces — 
except  that  in  general  their  name  is  Legion,  for  they 
are  many — so  I  will  not  attempt  them  here. 

These  people  live  in  very  different  houses,  with  very 
different  "  advantages,"  as  the  world  says.  Halibur 
ton  has  grown  very  rich  in  the  rag  and  paper  business, 
rich  enough  to  discard  rag  money  and  believe  in  gold. 
He  even  spits  at  silver,  which  I  am  glad  to  get  when 
I  can.  Frederic  Ingham  will  never  be  rich.  His 
regular  income  consists  in  his  half-pay  as  a  retired 


208  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

brevet  officer  in  the  patriot  service  of  Garibaldi  of  the 
year  1859.  For  the  rest,  he  invested  his  money  in  the 
Brick  Moon,  and,  as  I  need  hardly  add,  insured  his  life 
in  the  late  Continental  Insurance  Company.  But  the 
Inghams  find  just  as  much  in  life  as  do  the  Haliburtons, 
and  Anna  Haliburton  consults  Polly  Ingham  about  the 
shade  of  a  flounce,  just  as  readily  and  as  eagerly  as 
Polly  consults  her  about  the  children's  dentistry.  They 
are  all  very  fond  of  each  other. 

They  get  a  great  deal  out  of  life,  these  eight,  partly 
because  they  are  so  closely  allied  together.  Just  two 
whist  parties,  you  see  ;  or,  if  they  go  to  ride,  they  just 
fill  two  carriages.  Eight  is  such  a  good  number — makes 
such  a  nice  dinner  party.  Perhaps  they  see  a  little  too 
much  of  each  other.  That  we  shall  never  know. 

They  got  a  great  deal  out  of  life,  and  yet  they  were 
not  satisfied.  They  found  that  out  very  queerly.  They 
have  not  many  standards.  Ingham  does  take  the  Spec 
tator  ;  Hackmatack  condescends  to  read  the  Times ; 
Haliburton,  who  used  to  be  in  the  insurance  busi 
ness,  and  keeps  his  old  extravagant  habits,  reads  both 
the  Advertiser  and  the  Transcript ;  all  of  them  have 
the  Christian  Union,  and  all  of  them  buy  Harper 's 
Weekly.  Every  separate  week  of  their  lives  they  buy 
of  the  boys,  instead  of  subscribing  ;  they  think  they 
may  not  want  the  next  number,  but  they  always  do. 
Not  one  of  them  has  read  the  Nation  for  five  years, 
for  they  like  to  keep  good-natured.  In  fact,  they  do 
not  take  much  stock  in  the  general  organs  of  opinion, 
and  the  only  standard  books  you  find  about  are 
scandalously  few.  The  Bible,  Shakespeare,  John  Mil 
ton;  Polly  has  Dante  ;  Julia  has  "  Barclay's  Apology," 
with  ever  so  many  marks  in  it  ;  one  George  has  "  Owen 
Felltham,"  and  the  other  is  strong  on  Marcus  Aurelius, 


WEALS. 


209 


Well,  no  matter  about  these  separate  things  ;  the  uni 
form  books  besides  those  I  named,  in  different  editions, 
but  in  every  house,  are  the  "  Arabian  Nights"  and 
"  ROBINSON  CRUSOE."  Hackmatack  has  the  priceless 
first  edition.  Haliburton  has  Grandville's  (the  English 
Grandville).  Ingham  has  a  proof  copy  of  the  Stothard. 
Carter  has  a  good  copy  of  the  Cruikshank. 

If  you  ask  me  which  of  these  four  I  should  like  best, 
I  should  say,  as  the  American  Laureate  did  when  they 
gave  him  his  choice  of  two  kinds  of  cake  : 

' '  Both's  as  good  as  one. ' ' 

Well,  "  Robinson  Crusoe"  being  their  lay  gospel  and 
creed,  not  to  say  epistle  and  psalter,  it  was  not  queer 
that  one  night,  when  the  election  had  gone  awfully, 
and  the  men  were  as  blue  as  that  little  porcelain  Osiris 
of  mine  yonder,  who  is  so  blue  that  he  cannot  stand 
on  his  feet — it  was  not  queer,  I  say,  that  they  turned 
instinctively  to  "  Robinson  Crusoe"  for  relief. 

Now,  Robinson  Crusoe  was  once  in  a  very  bad  box 
indeed,  and  to  comfort  himself  as  well  as  he  could, 
and  to  set  the  good  against  the  evil,  that  he  might 
have  something  to  distinguish  his  case  from  worse,  he 
stated  impartially,  like  debtor  and  creditor,  the  com 
forts  and  miseries,  thus  : 

Evil.  Good. 

I  am  cast  upon  a  horrible  deso-          But  I  am  alive.and  not  drowned 
late  island,  void  of  all  hope  of      as  all  my  ship's  company  were, 
recovery. 

I  am  singled  out  and  sepa-  But  I  am  singled  out,  too, 
rated,  as  it  were,  from  all  the  from  the  ship's  crew  to  be  spared 
world,  to  be  miserable.  from  death. 

And  so  the  debtor  and  creditor  account  goes  on. 

Julia  Hackmatack  read  this  aloud  to  them — the 
whole  of  it — and  they  agreed,  as  Robinson  says,  not  so 
much  for  their  posterity  as  to  keep  their  thoughts 


210  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

from  daily  poring  on  their  trials,  that  for  each  family 
they  would  make  such  a  balance.  What  might  not 
come  of  it  ?  Perhaps  a  partial,  nay,  perhaps  a  perfect, 
cure  ! 

So  they  determined  that  on  the  instant  they  would 
go  to  work,  and  thus  two  in  the  smoking-room,  two  in 
the  dining-room,  two  in  George's  study,  and  two  in 
the  parlor,  they  should  in  the  next  half  hour  make  up 
their  lists  of  good  and  evil.  Here  are  the  results  : 

FREDERIC  AND  MARY   INGHAM. 

Good.  Evil. 

We  have  three  nice  boys  and  But  the  door-bell  rings  all  the 
three  nice  girls.  time. 

We  have  enough  to  eat,  drink,  But  the  coal  bill  is  awful,  and 

and  wear.  the  Larrabee  furnace  has  given 

out.  The  firm  that  made  it  has 
gone  up,  and  no  castings  can  be 
had  to  mend  it. 

We  have  more  books  than  we  But  our  friends  borrow  our 
can  read,  and  do  not  care  to  read  books,  and  only  return  odd 
many  newspapers.  volumes. 

We  have  many  very  dear  But  we  are  behindhand  143 
friends — enough.  names  on  our  lists  of  calls. 

We  have  health  in  our  family.  But  the  children  may  be  sick. 

The  Lowndes  children  are. 

We  seem  to  be  of  some  use  in  But  Mrs.  Hogarth  has  left  Fred 
the  world.  $200  for  the  poor,  and  he  is 

afraid  he  shall  spend  it  wrong. 

The  country  has  gone  to  the 
dogs. 

GEORGE  AND  ANNA  HALIBURTON. 

Good.  Evil. 

We  have  a  nice  home  in  town,  You   cannot    give    a    cup    of 

and  one   in  Sharon,  and   a   sea-  coffee  to  a  beggar  but  he  sends 

shore  place  at  Little  Gau,  and  we  five  hundred  million  tramps  to 

have  friends  enough  to  fill  them.  the  door. 

We  have  some  of  the  nicest  A  great  many  people  call 
children  in  the  world.  whose  names  we  have  forgotten. 


IDEALS. 


211 


Good. 

We  have  enough  to  do,  and 
not  too  much. 


Business     is     good     enough, 
though  complaining. 


The  children  are  all  well. 


Evil 

We  have  to  give  a  party  to  all 
our  acquaintance  every  year. 
which  is  horrid. 

We  do  not  do  anything  we 
want  to  do,  and  we  do  a  great 
deal  that  we  do  not  want  to  do. 
George  had  added,  "And  there 
is  no  help  in  us."  But  Anna 
marked  that  out  as  wicked. 

People  vote  as  if  they  were 

possessed. 


GEORGE  AND  JULIA  HACKMATACK. 


Good. 

We  have  eight  splendid  chil 
dren. 


We  have  money  enough, 
though  we  know  what  to  do  with 
more. 

George  will  not  have  to  go  to 
Bahia  next  year. 


Tom  got  through  with  scarlet 
fever  without  being  deaf. 


Dr.  Witherspoon  has  accepted 
the  presidency  of  Tiberias  Col 
lege  in  Alaska. 


Evil. 

The  plumbers'  work  always 
gives  way  at  the  wrong  time,  and 
the  plumbers'  bills  are  awful. 

The  furnace  will  not  heat  the 
house  unless  the  wind  is  at  the 
southwest.  None  of  the  chim 
neys  draw  well. 

We  hate  the  Kydd  School. 
The  master  drinks  and  the  first 
assistant  lies.  But  we  live  in 
that  district ;  so  the  boys  have  to 
go  there. 

Lucy  said  "  commence  "  yester 
day,  Jane  said  "gent,"  Walter 
said  "bully  for  you,"  and  Alice 
said  "nobby."  And  what  is 
coming  we  do  not  know. 

How  long  any  man  can  live 
under  this  government  I  do  not 
know. 


FELIX   AND   FAUSTA   CARTER. 


Good. 


Governments  are  stronger 
every  year.  Money  goes  farther 
than  it  did. 

All  the  boys  are  good  and 
well.  So  are  the  girls.  They 
are  splendid  children. 


Evil. 


But  as  the  children  grow 
bigger,  their  clothes  cost  more. 

But  the  children  get  no  good 
at  school,  except  measles, 
whooping-cough,  and  scarlet 
fever. 


212  OUR    CHRISTMAS  tN  A    PALACE. 

Good.  Evil. 

Old     Mr.     Porter     died     last  But   the   gas-meter   lies;   and 

week,  and   Felix  gets  promotion       the  gas  company  wants  to  have 
in  the  office.  it  lie. 

The  lost  volume  of  F;chte  was  But  the  Athenaeum  is   always 

left  on   the  door-step  last  night  calling   in  its  books  to  examine 

by  some  one  who  rang  the  bell  them,  and  making  us  say  where 

and  ran  away.     It  is  rather  wet,  Mr.    Fred    Curtis's  books   arc. 

but  when  it  is  bound  will  look  As  if  we  cared, 
nicely. 

The  mistress  of  the  Arabella  But  our  drains  smell  awfully, 
School  is  dead.  though  the  Board  of  Health  says 

they  do  not. 

We  have  to  go  to  evening  par 
ties  among  our  friends,  or  seem 
stuck  up.  We  hate  to  go,  and 
wish  there  were  none.  We  had 
rather  come  here. 

The  increasing  worthlessness 
of  the  franchise. 

With  these  papers  they  gathered  all  in  the  study  just 
as  the  clock  struck  nine,  and,  in  good  old  Boston  fashion, 
Silas  was  bringing  in  some  hot  oysters.  They  ate  the 
oysters,  which  were  good — trust  Anna  for  that — and 
then  the  women  read  the  papers,  while  the  smoking 
men  smoked  and  pondered. 

They  all  recognized  the  gravity  of  the  situation. 
Still,  as  Julia  said,  they  felt  better  already.  It  was 
like  having  the  doctor  come  ;  you  knew  the  worst,  and 
could  make  ready  for  it. 

They  did  not  discuss  the  statements  much.  They 
had  discussed  them  too  much  in  severalty.  They  did 
agree  that  they  should  be  left  to  Felix  to  report 
upon  the  next  evening.  He  was,  so  to  speak,  to  post 
them,  to  strike  out  from  each  side  the  quantities  which 
could  be  eliminated,  and  leave  the  equations  so  sim 
plified  that  the  eight  might  determine  what  they  should 
do  about  it  -indeed,  what  they  could  do  about  it. 

The  visitors  put  on  their  "  things" — how   strange 


IDE  A  &S.  213 

that  that  word  should  once  have  meant ' '  parliaments  ! ' ' 
— kissed  good-by  so  far  as  they  were  womanly,  and 
went  home.  George  Haliburton  screwed  down  the 
gas,  and  he  and  his  wife  went  to  bed. 

II.     STRIKING  THE  BALANCE. 

The  next  night  they  went  to  see  Warren  at  the 
Museum.  That  probably  helped  them.  After  the 
play  they  met  by  appointment  at  the  Carters'.  Felix 

read  his 

Report. 

1 .  NUMBER.— There  are  twenty-one  reasons  for  congratulation, 
twenty-four  for  regret.     But  of  the  twenty-four,   four  are    the 
same,  namely,  the  accursed  political  prospect  of  the  country. 
Counting  that  as  one  only,  there  are  twenty-one  on  each  side. 

2.  EVIL. — The  twenty-one  evils  may  be  classified  thus  :  politi 
cal,  i  ;  social,  12  ;  physical,  5  ;  terrors,  3. 

All  the  physical  evils  would  be  relieved  by  living  in  a  tem 
perate  climate,  instead  of  this  abomination,  which  is  not  a 
climate,  to  which  our  ancestors  were  sold  by  the  cupidity  of  the 
Dutch. 

The  political  evil  would  be  ended  by  leaving  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  United  States. 

The  social  evils,  which  are  a  majority  of  all,  would  be  reduced 
by  residence  in  any  place  where  there  were  not  so  many  people. 

The  terrors  properly  belong  to  all  the  classes.  In  a  decent 
climate,  in  a  country  not  governed  by  its  vices,  and  a  community 
not  crowded,  the  three  terrors  would  be  materially  abated,  if  not 
put  to  an  end. 

Respectfully  submitted,  FELIX  CARTER. 

How  they  discussed  it  now  !  Talk  ?  I  think  so  ! 
They  all  talked  awhile,  and  no  one  listened.  But 
they  had  to  stop  when  Phenice  brought  in  the  Welsh 
rare-bit  (good  before  bed,  but  a  little  indigestible,  un 
less  your  conscience  is  stainless),  and  Felix  then  put 
in  a  word. 


214  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

"  Now  I  tell  you,  this  is  not  nonsense.  Why  not  do 
what  Winslow  and  Standish  and  those  fellows  thought 
they  were  doing  when  they  sailed  ?  Why  not  go  to  a 
climate  like  France,  with  milder  winters  and  cooler 
summers  than  here  ?  You  want  some  winter,  you  want 
some  summer." 

"  I  hate  centipedes  and  scorpions,"  said  Anna. 
1  There's   no  need  of  them.      There's  a  place  in 
Mexico,  not  a  hundred  miles  from  the  sea,  where  you 
can  have  your  temperature  just  as  you  like." 

"Stuff!" 

11  No,  it  is  not  stuff  at  all,"  said  poor  Felix,  eagerly. 
"  I  do  not  mean  just  one  spot.  But  you  live  in  this 
valley,  you  know.  If  you  find  it  is  growing  hot,  you 
move  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  a  another  place 
higher  up.  If  you  find  that  hot,  why  you  have 
another  house  a  little  higher.  Don't  you  see  ?  Then, 
when  winter  comes,  you  move  down." 

"  Are  there  many  people  there  ?"  asked  Haliburton  ; 
"  and  do  they  make  many  calls  ?" 

'  There  are  a  good  many  people,  but  they  are  a 
gentle  set.  They  never  quarrel.  They  are  a  little  too 
high  up  for  the  revolutions,  and  there  is  something 
tranquillizing  about  the  place  ;  they  seldom  die,  none 
are  sick,  they  need  no  aguardiente,  do  what  the  head 
of  the  village  tells  them  to  do — only  he  never  has  any 
occasion  to  tell  them.  They  never  make  calls." 

"  I  like  that,"  said  Ingham.  '  That  patriarchal 
system  is  the  true  system  of  government. ' ' 

"Where  is  this  place?"   said  Anna,  incredulously. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  remember  all  day,  but  I  can't. 
It  is  in  Mexico,  I  know.  It  is  on  this  side  of  Mexico. 
It  tells  all  about  it  in  an  old  Harper — oh,  a  good  many 
years  ago — but  I  never  bound  mine  ;  there  are  always 


IDEALS.  215 

one  or  two  missing  every  year.  I  asked  Fausta  to  look 
for  it,  but  she  was  busy.  I  thought,"  continued  poor 
Felix,  a  little  crestfallen,  "  one  of  you  might  remem 
ber." 

No,  nobody  remembered  ;  and  nobody  felt  much 
like  going  to  the  public  library  to  look,  on  Carter's 
rather  vague  indications.  In  fact,  it  was  a  suggestion 
of  Haliburton's  which  proved  more  popular. 

Haliburton  said  he  had  not  laid  in  his  coal.  They 
all  said  the  same.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  the  coal  of  this 
crowd  for  this  winter  will  cost  a  thousand  dollars,  if 
you  add  in  the  kindling  and  the  matches,  and  patching 
the  furnace  pots  and  sweeping  the  chimneys." 

To  this  they  agreed. 

4 '  It  is  now  Wednesday.  Let  us  start  Saturday  for 
Memphis,  take  a  cheap  boat  to  New  Orleans,  go 
thence  to  Vera  Cruz  by  steamer,  explore  the  ground, 
buy  the  houses  if  we  like,  and  return  by  the  time  we 
can  do  without  fires  next  spring.  Our  board  will 
cost  less  than  it  would  here,  for  it  is  there  the  beef 
comes  from.  And  the  thousand  dollars  will  pay  the 
fares  both  ways. ' ' 

The  women,  with  one  voice,  cried,  "And  the  chil 
dren  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  the  eager  adventurer.  "  I  had 
forgotten  the  children.  Well,  they  are  all  well,  are  they 
not?" 

Yes  ;  all  were  well. 

'  Then  we  will  take  them  with  us  as  far  as  Yellow 
Springs,  in  Ohio,  and  leave  them  for  the  fall  and 
winter  terms  at  Antioch  College.  They  will  be 
enough  better  taught  than  they  are  at  the  Kydd 
School,  and  they  will  get  no  scarlet  fever.  Nobody  is 
ever  sick  there.  They  will  be  better  cared  for  than  my 


2l6  OUR    CHRISTMAS   IN  A    PALACE. 

children  are  when  they  are  left  to  me,  and  they  will  be 
seven  hundred  miles  nearer  to  us  than  if  they  were 
here.  The  little  ones  can  go  to  the  Model  Schools,  the 
middling  ones  to  the  Academy,  and  the  oldest  can  go 
to  college.  How  many  are  there,  Felix  ?" 

Felix  said  there  were  twenty-nine. 

"Well,"  said  the  arithmetical  George,  "it  is  the 
cheapest  place  I  ever  knew.  Why,  their  seniors  get 
along  for  three  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  squeeze 
more  out  of  life  than  I  do  out  of  twenty  thousand. 
The  little  ones  won't  cost  at  that  rate.  A  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  for  twenty-nine  children  for  six 
months  ;  how  much  is  that,  Polly?" 

"  Forty-three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  of  course," 
said  she. 

"  I  thought  so.  Well,  don't  you  see,  we  shall  save 
that  in  wages  to  these  servants  we  are  boarding  here, 
of  whom  there  are  eleven,  who  cost  us,  say,  six  dollars 
a  week  ;  that  is,  sixty-six  dollars  for  twenty  weeks  is 
thirteen  hundred  and  twenty  dollars.  We  won't  buy 
any  clothes,  but  live  on  the  old  ones,  and  make  the 
children  wear  their  big  brothers'  and  sisters'.  There's 
a  saving  of  thirty-seven  hundred  dollars  for  thirty- 
seven  of  us.  Why,  we  shall  make  money  !  I  tell 
you  what,  if  you'll  do  it,  I'll  pay  all  the  bills  till  we 
come  home.  If  you  like,  you  shall  then  each  pay  me 
three-quarters  of  your  last  winter's  accounts,  and  I'll 
charge  any  difference  to  profit  and  loss.  But  I  shall 
make  by  the  bargain." 

The  women  doubted  if  they  could  be  ready.  But  it 
proved  they  could.  Still  they  did  not  start  Saturday  ; 
they  started  Monday,  in  two  palace-cars.  They  left 
the  children,  all  delighted  with  the  change,  at  Antioch 
on  Wednesday— a  little  tempted  to  spend  the  winter 


IDEALS.  217 

there  themselves  ;    but,  this  temptation  well  resisted, 
they  sped  on  to  Mexico. 


III.    FULFILMENT. 

Such  a  tranquil  three  days  on  the  Mississippi,  which 
was  on  an  autumn  flood,  and  revealed  himself  as  in 
deed  King  of  Waters  !  Such  delightful  three  days  in 
hospitable  New  Orleans  !  Might  it  not  be  possible  to 
tarry  even  here  ?  "  No,"  cried  the  inexorable  George. 
11  We  have  put  our  hand  to  the  plough.  Who  will 
turn  back  ?"  Two  days  of  abject  wetchedness  on  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico.  '  Why  were  we  born  ?  Why  did 
we  not  die  before  we  left  solid  land  ?"  And  then  the 
light-house  at  Vera  Cruz. 

"  Lo,  land  !  and  all  was  well." 

What  a  splendid  city  !  Why  had  nobody  told  them 
of  this  queen  on  the  sea-shore  ?  Red  and  white 
towers,  cupolas,  battlements  !  It  was  all  like  a  story 
book.  When  they  landed,  to  be  sure  it  was  not  quite 
so  big  a  place  as  they  had  fancied  from  all  this  show  ; 
but  for  this  they  did  not  care.  To  land — that  was 
enough.  Had  they  landed  on  a  sand  spit  they  would 
have  been  in  heaven.  No  more  swaying  to  and  fro  as 
they  lay  in  bed  ;  no  more  stumbling  to  and  fro  as  they 
walked.  They  refused  the  amazed  Mexicans  who 
wanted  them  to  ride  to  the  hotel.  To  walk  steadily 
was  in  itself  a  luxury. 

And  then,  it  was  not  long  before  the  men  had 
selected  the  little  caravan  of  horses  and  mules  which 
were  to  carry  them  on  their  expedition  of  discovery. 
Some  valley  of  paradise,  where  a  man  could  change 
his  climate  from  midwinter  to  midsummer  by  a  journey 


2l8  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE, 

of  a  mile.  Did  the  consul  happen  to  have  heard  ol 
any  such  valley  ? 

Had  he  heard  of  them  ?  He  had  heard  of  fifty.  He 
had  not,  indeed,  heard  of  much  else.  How  could  he 
help  hearing  of  them  ? 

Could  the  consul,  then,  recommend  one  or  two 
valleys  which  might  be  for  sale  ?  Or  was  it,  perhaps, 
impossible  to  buy  a  foothold  in  such  an  Eden  ? 

For  sale  !  There  was  nothing  in  the  country,  so  far 
as  the  friend  knew  to  whom  the  consul  presented 
them,  which  was  not  for  sale.  Anywhere  in  Queretaro  ; 
or  why  should  they  not  go  to  the  Baxio  ?  No  ;  that 
was  too  flat  and  too  far  off.  There  were  pretty  places 
round  Xalapa.  Oh,  plenty  of  plantations  for  sale  ! 
But  they  need  not  go  so  far.  Anywhere  on  the  rise 
of  Chiquihiti. 

Was  the  friend  quite  sure  that  there  were  no 
plumbers  in  the  regions  he  named  ? 

"  Never  a  plumber  in  Mexico." 

Any  life-insurance  men  ? 

"Not  one."  The  prudent  friend  did  not  add, 
4 'Risk  too  high." 

Were  the  public  schools  graded  schools  or  district 
schools  ? 

"  Not  a  public  school  in  six  provinces." 

"Would  the  neighbors  be  offended  if  we  did  not 
call?" 

"  Cut  your  throats  if  you  did." 

Did  the  friend  think  there  would  be  many 
tramps  ? 

The  friend  seemed  more  doubtful  here,  but  suggested 
that  the  occasional  use  of  a  six-shooter  reduced  the 
number,  and  gave  a  certain  reputation  to  the  prem 
ises  where  it  was  employed,  which  diminished  much 


IDEALS.  2IQ 

tramping  afterward,  and  he  said  that  the  law  did  not 
object  to  this  method. 

They  returned  to  a  dinner  of  fish,  for  which  Vera 
Cruz  is  celebrated.  "  If  what  this  man  says  be  true," 
said  Ingham,  "  we  must  be  very  near  heaven." 

It  was  now  in  November.  Oh,  the  glory  of  that 
ride,  as  they  left  Vera  Cruz  and,  through  a  wilderness 
of  color,  jogged  slowly  on  to  their  new  paradise  ! 

"  Through  Eden  four  glad  couples  took  their  way." 

Higher  and  higher.  This  wonder  and  that.  Not  a 
blade  of  grass  such  as  they  ever  saw  before,  not  a 
chirping  cricket  such  as  they  ever  heard  before,  a 
hundred  bright-winged  birds,  and  not  one  that  they 
had  ever  seen  before.  Higher  and  higher.  Trees, 
skies,  clouds,  flowers,  beasts,  birds,  insects,  all  new 
and  all  lovely. 

The  final  purchase  was  of  one  small  plantation,  with 
a  house  large  enough  for  a  little  army,  yet  without 
a  stair.  Oranges,  lemons,  pomegranates,  mangoes, 
bananas,  pineapples,  coffee,  sugar — what  did  not  ripen 
in  those  perennial  gardens  ?  Half  a  mile  above  there 
were  two  smaller  houses  belonging  to  the  same  estate  ; 
half  a  mile  above,  another  was  purchased  easily.  This 
was  too  cold  to  stay  in  in  November,  but  in  June  and 
July  and  August  the  temperature  would  be  sixty-six, 
without  change. 

They  sent  back  the  mules.  A  telegram  from  Vera 
Cruz  brought  from  Boston,  in  fifteen  days,  the  best 
books  in  the  world,  the  best  piano  in  the  world,  a 
few  boxes  of  colors  for  the  artists,  a  few  reams  of 
paper,  and  a  few  dozens  of  pencils  for  the  men. 
And  then  began  four  months  of  blessed  life.  Never 
a  gas  bill  nor  a  water  leak,  never  a  crack  in  the 


220  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

furnace,  never  a  man  to  put  in  coal,  never  a  request 
to  speak  for  the  benefit  of  the  Fenians,  never  the 
necessity  of  attending  at  a  primary  meeting.  The 
ladies  found  in  their  walks  these  gentle  Mexican  chil 
dren,  simple,  happy,  civil,  and  with  the  strange  idea 
that  the  object  for  which  life  is  given  is  that  men  may 
live.  They  came  home  with  new  wealth  untold  every 
day — of  ipomcea,  convolvulus,  passion-flowers,  and 
orchids.  The  gentlemen  brought  back  every  day  a 
new  species,  even  a  new  genus — a  new  illustration  of 
evolution  or  a  new  mystery  to  be  accounted  for  by  the 
law  of  natural  selection.  Night  was  all  sleep  ;  day  was 
all  life.  Digestion  waited  upon  appetite  ;  appetite 
waited  upon  exercise  ;  exercise  waited  upon  study  ; 
study  waited  upon  conversation  ;  conversation  waited 
upon  love.  Could  it  be  that  November  was  over  ?  Can 
life  run  by  so  fast  ?  Can  it  be  that  Christmas  has 
come  ?  Can  we  let  life  go  by  so  fast  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  it  is  the  end  of  January  ?  We  cannot  let  life 
go  so  fast.  Really,  is  this  St.  Valentine's  day  ? 
When  ever  did  life  go  so  fast  ? 

And  with  the  1st  of  March  the  mules  were  ordered, 
and  they  moved  to  the  next  higher  level.  The  men 
and  women  walked.  And  there,  on  the  grade  of  a  new 
climate,  they  began  on  a  new  botany,  on  new  discov 
eries,  and  happy  life  found  new  forms  as  they  began 
again. 

So  sped  April  and  so  sped  May.  Life  had  its  battles 
— oh,  yes,  because  it  was  life.  But  they  were  not  the 
pettiest  of  battles.  They  were  not  the  battles  of 
prisoners  shut  up,  to  keep  out  the  weather,  in  cells 
fifteen  feet  square.  They  fought,  if  they  fought,  with 
God's  air  in  their  veins  and  God's  warm  sunshine 
around  them  and  God's  blue  sky  above  them.  So 


IDEALS.  221 

they  did  what  they  could,  as  they  wrote  and  read  and 
drew  and  painted,  as  they  walked  and  ran  and  swam 
and  rode  and  drove,  as  they  encouraged  this  peon  boy 
and  taught  that  peon  girl,  smoothed  this  old  woman's 
pillow  and  listened  to  that  old  man's  story,  as  they 
analyzed  these  wonderful  flowers,  as  they  tasted  these 
wonderful  fruits,  as  they  climbed  these  wonderful 
mountains,  or,  at  night,  as  they  pointed  the  telescope 
through  this  cloudless  and  stainless  sky. 

With  all  their  might  they  lived.  And  they  were  so 
many,  and  there  were  so  many  round  them  to  whom 
their  coming  was  a  new  being,  that  they  lived  in  love, 
and  every  day  drank  in  of  the  infinite  elixir. 

But  June  came.  The  mules  are  sent  for  again. 
Again  they  walked  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  And  here  in 
the  little  whitewashed  cottage,  with  only  a  selection 
from  the  books  below,  with  two  guitars  and  a  flute  in 
place  of  the  piano — here  they  made  ready  for  three 
weeks  of  June.  Only  three  weeks  ;  for  on  the  2Qth 
was  the  Commencement  at  Antioch,  and  Jane  and 
Walter  and  Florence  were  to  take  their  degrees. 
There  would  need  five  days  from  Vera  Cruz  to  reach 
them.  And  so  this  summer  was  to  be  spent  in  the 
North  with  them,  before  October  should  bring  all  the 
children  and  the  parents  to  the  land  of  the  open  sky. 

Three  busy  weeks  between  the  1st  and  the  22d,  in 
which  all  the  pictures  must  be  finished,  Ingham's  novel 
must  be  revised,  Haliburton's  articles  completed,  the 
new  invention  for  measuring  power  must  be  gauged 
and  tested,  the  dried  flowers  must  be  mounted  and 
packed,  the  preserved  fruits  must  be  divided  for  the 
northern  friends.  Three  happy  weeks  of  life  eventful, 
but  life  without  crowding  and,  above  all,  without 
interruption.  "Think  of  it,"  cried  Felix,  as  they 


222  OUR   CHRISTMAS   IN  A    PALACE. 

took  their  last  walk  among  the  lava  crags,  "  the  door 
bell  has  not  rung  all  this  last  winter  !" 

"  '  This  happy  old  king 

On  his  gate  he  did  swing, 
Because  there  was  never  a  door-bell  to  ring.1  " 

This  was  Julia's  impromptu  reply. 


IV.    HOME  AGAIN. 

So  came  one  more  journey.  Why  can  we  not  go  and 
come  without  this  musty  steamer,  these  odious  smells, 
this  food  for  dogs,  and  this  surge — ah,  how  remorse 
less  ! — of  the  cruel  sea  ? 

But  even  this  will  end.  Once  more  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  !  A  land  of  furnaces  and  of  water-pipes,  a 
land  of  beggars  and  of  caucuses,  a  land  of  gas-meters 
and  of  liars,  a  land  of  pasteboard  and  of  cards,  a  land 
of  etiquettes  and  of  bad  spelling,  but  still  their  country! 
A  land  of  telegraphs,  which  told  in  an  instant,  as  they 
landed  on  the  levee,  that  all  the  twenty-nine  were  well, 
and  begged  them  to  be  at  the  college  on  Tuesday 
evening,  so  as  to  see  Much  Ado  about  Nothing.  For 
at  Antioch  they  act  a  play  the  night  before  Commence 
ment.  A  land  of  Pullman's  palace  cars.  And  lo  ! 
they  secured  sections  5  and  6,  7  and  8,  in  the  ' '  May 
flower.  "  Just  time  to  kiss  the  baby  of  one  friend,  and 
to  give  a  basket  of  guavas  to  another,  and  then  whir 
for  Cincinnati  and  Xenia  and  Yellow  Springs  ! 

How  beautiful  were  the  live-oaks  and  the  magnolias  ! 
How  fresh  the  green  of  the  cotton  !  How  black  the 
faces  of  the  little  negroes,  and  how  beyond  dispute  the 
perfume  of  the  baked  peanuts  at  the  stations  where 
sometimes  they  had  to  stop  for  wood  and  water  ! 
Even  the  heavy  pile  of  smoke  above  Cincinnati  was 


IDEALS.  223 

V, 

golden  with  the  hopes  of  a  new  born  day  as  they  rushed 
up  to  the  Ohio  River,  and  as  they  crossed  it.  And 
then,  the  land  of  happy  homes  !  It  was  Kapnist  who 
said  to  me  that  the  most  favored  places  in  the  world 
were  the  larger  villages  in  Ohio.  He  had  gone  every 
where,  too.  Xenia,  and  a  perfect  breakfast  at  the 
station,  then  the  towers  of  Antioch,  then  the  twenty- 
nine  children  waving  their  handkerchiefs  as  the  train 
rushes  in  ! 

How  much  there  was  to  tell,  to  show,  to  ask  for,  and 
to  see  !  How  much  pleasure  they  gave  with  their 
cochineal,  their  mangoes,  their  bananas,  their  hat 
bands  for  the  boys,  and  their  fans  for  the  girls  !  Yes  ; 
and  how  much  more  they  took  from  nut-brown  faces, 
from  smiles  beaming  from  ear  to  ear,  from  the  boy  so 
tall  that  he  looked  down  upon  his  father,  from  the  girl 
so  womanly  that  you  asked  if  her  mother  were  not  mas 
querading.  "  You  rascal,  Ozro,  you  do  not  pretend 
that  those  trousers  were  made  for  you  ?  Why,  my 
boy,  you  disgrace  the  family."  "  I  hope  not,  papa  ; 
I  had  ninety-eight  in  the  botany  examination,  passed 
with  honors  in  Greek,  and  we  beat  the  Buckeye  Club 
to  nothing  in  the  return  match  yesterday."  'You 
did,  you  little  beggar?"  the  proud  papa  replied. 
"  You  ran  all  the  better,  I  suppose,  because  you  had 
nothing  to  trip  you."  And  so  on,  and  so  on.  The 
children  did  not  live  in  paradise,  perhaps,  but  this 
seems  very  like  the  kingdom  come  ! 

And  after  commencements  and  the  president's  party, 
up  to  the  Yellow  Springs  platform  came  two  unusual 
palaces,  specially  engaged.  And  one  was  named  the 
'  Valparaiso,"  and  the  other,  as  it  happened,  the 
"  Bethlehem."  And  they  took  all  the  children,  and 
by  good  luck  Mrs.  Tucker  was  going  also,  and  three  or 


224  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

four  of  the  college  girls,  and  they  took  them.  So  there 
were  forty-two  in  all.  And  they  sped  and  sped,  with 
out  change  of  cars,  save  as  Bethlehem  visited  Paradise 
and  Paradise  visited  Bethlehem,  till  they  came  to  New 
Salem,  which  is  the  station  men  buy  tickets  for,  when 
they  would  go  to  the  beach  below  Quonochontaug, 
where  the  eight  and  the  twenty-nine  were  to  make 
their  summer  home  before  the  final  emigration. 

They  do  not  live  at  Quonochontaug,  but  to  that 
post-office  are  their  letters  sent.  They  live  in  a  ham 
let  of  their  own,  known  to  the  neighbors  as  the  Little 
Gau.  Four  large  houses,  whitewashed  without  and 
within,  with  deep  piazzas  all  around,  the  roofs  of  which 
join  the  roofs  of  the  houses  themselves,  and  run  up  on 
all  sides  to  one  point  above  the  centre.  In  each  house 
a  hall  some  twenty  feet  by  fifty,  and  in  the  hall — what 
is  not  in  the  hall  ? — maybe  a  piano,  maybe  a  fish-rod, 
maybe  a  rifle  or  a  telescope,  a  volume  of  sermons  or 
a  volume  of  songs,  a  spinning-wheel,  or  a  guitar,  or  a 
battledore.  You  might  ask  widely  for  what  you  needed, 
for  study  or  for  play,  and  you  would  find  it,  though  it 
were  a  deep  divan  of  Osiut  or  a  chibouque  from 
Stamboul — you  would  find  it  in  one  of  these  simple 
whitewashed  halls. 

Little  Gau  is  so  near  the  sea-shore  that  every  day 
they  go  down  to  the  beach  to  bathe,  and  the  beach  is 
so  near  the  Gulf  Stream  that  the  swim  is — well,  perfec 
tion.  Still,  the  first  day  the  ladies  would  not  swim. 
They  had  the  trunks  to  open,  they  said,  and  the  closets 
to  arrange.  And  the  four  men  and  the  fourteen  boys 
went  to  that  bath  of  baths  alone.  And  as  Felix,  the 
cynic  grumbler,  ran  races  naked  on  the  beach  with  his 
boy  and  the  boy  beat  him,  even  Felix  was  heard  to 


IDEALS.  225 

X 

say,  "  How  little  man  needs  here  below  to  be  perfectly 
happy  !" 

And  at  the  Little  Gau  they  spent  the  months  from 
the  4th  of  July  to  the  I3th  of  October — two  great 
days  in  history — getting  ready  for  Mexico.  New  sew 
ing  machines  were  bought,  and  the  fall  of  the  stream 
from  the  lake  was  taught  to  run  the  treadles.  No  end 
of  clothing  was  got  ready  for  a  country  which  needs 
none  ;  no  end  of  memoranda  made  for  the  last 
purchases  ;  no  end  of  lists  of  books  prepared,  which 
they  could  read  in  that  land  of  leisure.  And  on  the 
I4th  of  October,  with  a  passing  sigh,  they  bade  good- 
by  to  boats  and  dogs  and  cows  and  horses  and 
neighbors  and  beaches — almost  to  sun  and  moon,  which 
had  smiled  on  so  much  happiness,  and  went  back  to 
Boston  to  make  the  last  bargains,  to  pay  the  last  bills, 
and  to  say  the  last  good-bys. 

After  one  day  of  bill-paying  and  house-advertising 
and  farewelling,  they  met  at  Tngham's  to  "  tell  their 
times."  And  Julia  told  of  her  farewell  call  on  dear 
Mrs.  Blake. 

4  The  saint  !"  said  she  ;  "  she  does  not  see  as  well 
as  she  did.  But  it  was  just  lovely  there.  There  was 
the  great  bronze  Japanese  stork,  which  seemed  so 
friendly,  and  the  great  vases,  and  her  flowers  as  fresh 
as  ever,  and  her  books  everywhere.  She  found  some 
thing  for  Tom  and  Maud  to  play  with,  just  as  she  used 
to  for  Ben  and  Horace.  And  we  sat  and  talked  of 
Mexico  and  Antioch  and  everything.  I  asked  her  if 
her  eyes  troubled  her,  and  I  was  delighted  because  it 
seems  they  do  not  trouble  her  at  all.  She  told  all 
about  Swampscot  and  her  grandchildren.  I  asked  her  if 
the  dust  never  troubled  them  on  Gladstone  Street,  but 


226  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

she  says  it  does  not  at  all  ;  and  she  told  all  about  her 
son's  family  in  Hong-Kong.  I  asked  her  if  the  failure 
of  Rupee  and  Lac  annoyed  them,  and  she  said  not  at 
all,  and  I  was  so  glad,  for  I  had  been  so  afraid  for 
them  ;  and  then  she  told  about  how  much  they  were 
enjoying  Macaulay.  Then  I  asked  her  if  the  new  anvil 
factory  on  the  other  side  of  the  street  did  not  trouble 
her,  and  she  said  not  at  all.  And  when  I  said,  '  How 
can  that  be  ?  '  she  said,  '  Why,  Julia  dear,  we  do  not 
let  these  things  trouble  us,  don't  you  see  ?  If  I  were 
you,  I  would  not  let  such  things  trouble  me.'  ' 

George  Haliburton  laid  down  his  knife  as  Julia  told 
the  story.  "  Do  you  remember  Rabia  at  Mecca  ?" 

Yes,  they  all  remembered  Rabia  at  Mecca  : 

"  O  heart,  weak  follower  of  the  weak, 

That  thou  shouldst  traverse  land  and  sea  ; 
In  this  far  place  that  God  to  seek 
Who  long  ago  had  come  to  thee  !" 

"  Why  should  we  not  stay  here,  and  not  let  these 
things  trouble  us  ?" 
Why  not,  indeed  ? 

AND   THEY   STAYED  ! 


"  They  stayed,  after  all !"  cried  Mrs.  Frechette,  when 
the  professor  finished  the  last  chapter.  "  After  all 
those  butterflies  and  bananas  and  sugar-canes  ;  did  you 
stay  and  freeze  and  thaw,  Mrs.  Hackmatack?" 

"  We  certainly  did,"  said  Julia,  "  else  I  should  not 
have  been  here." 

"  Well,  if  my  husband  will  ever  put  me  in  a  country 
which  knows  nothing  of  kindlings  and  coal-dust,  and 
yarn,  and  knitting  and  darning,  worst  of  all,  in  that 
country  I  shall  stay." 


AN  INTERMISSION.  227 

X 

And  they  went  on,  in  groups,  in  quite  eager  discus 
sion  of  the  conclusion  of  the  story. 

Sitting  far  back,  in  the  retirement  of  Number  3, 
Theodora  said  to  Mr.  Decker  :  '  Would  you  have 
stayed  or  would  you  have  gone  back  again  ?" 

He  was  on  the  very  edge  of  saying,  "  If  you  had 
stayed,  I  should  have  stayed,  and  if  you  had  gone,  I 
should  have  gone  ;"  and  as  this  was  the  exact  truth, 
those  advantages  which  belong  to  speaking  the  truth 
in  all  places  would  have  followed  the  statement. 

But,  in  fact,  he  just  caught  himself. 

44 1  should — well,  that  is  a  question  ;  why — you  know 
I  should — I  suppose  I  should  have  done  as  the  rest 
did." 

*  You  give  yourself  very  little  credit  for  decision  of 
character,"  said  she,  laughing.  '  You  must  read  Mr. 
Foster's  essay." 

"  Oh,  essays  will  do  me  no  good.  Well,  I  confess, 
I  told  you  that  I  am  of  no  kind  of  use  unless  I  am 
living  with  other  people.  With  them  and  for  them,  I 
believe  I  ought  to  say,  and  they  living  with  me  and 
for  me,  I  will  say,  too." 

'You  believe  in  the  '  Together,'  "  said  Julia,  for 
getting  that  he  had  not  heard  that  story  read. 

"Why,"  said  he,  surprised,  "  do  you  know  that  is 
my  chief's  motto  ?  It  is  on  his  seal  ring,  and  it  is  on 
the  letter  paper  of  the  works. 

"Yes,  I  believe  in  the  'Together,'  as  I  hardly 
believe  in  anything  else.  And  it  is  clear  that  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hackmatack  yonder  and  their  crowd  found  that 
life  depended,  not  on  cocoanuts  or  sugar-canes,  but  on 
the  more  or  less  of  love." 

"  Of  love  and  of  good  temper,"  said  the  girl,  never 
dreaming  that  he  was  looking  through  and  through 


228  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

her,  and  hoping  that  she  would  divine  how  much  he 
meant. 

"  Of  love  and  of  good  temper,  yes,"  he  said,  perhaps 
a  little  disappointed.  "  But  good  temper  comes  with 
love,  with  such  love  as  I  mean.  If  one  of  those  people 
in  the  story,  with  all  their  joking  and  discussing — if 
one  of  those  men  knows  and  feels  that  the  other — I 
don't  mean  the  other — if  he  knows  that  Alice,  or  Polly, 
or  whatever  the  name  is — if  she  has  rescued  him  from 
himself,  or  from  just  a  bear's  life  with  other  bears — if 
she  has  given  him  home,  and  the  glory  of  home  by 
going  into  his  cabin  with  him — and — being  good  to 
him,  and  kind  to  him,  and  explaining  to  him  and  cheer 
ing  him  up,  why,  he  is  a  brute  if  he  is  ill-tempered  to 
her,  or  if  he  is  not  willing  to  move  the  cabin  from  one 
place  to  another  if  she  wants  him  to.  Don't  you 
see?" 

But  Theodora  laughed.  "  I  see  that  he  might  be 
very  good  tempered,  and  I  am  afraid,  poor  man,  he 
would  have  to  be,  if  he  treated  his  Polly  or  his  Alice 
in  that  fashion.  No,  no,  Mr.  Decker,  the  good  nature 
is  needed  on  her  side  as  well  as  on  his  side.  She  must 
sit  in  the  cabin  all  day,  while  he  is  out  with  his  flute 
on  the  sierra,  catching  the  key-note  of  the  '  mocking 
birds.'  ' 

"  I  do  not  see  that — I  do  not  see  why  she  should  not 
be  at  his  side  with  her  zithern." 

And  they  both  laughed.  She  began  again  :  "  Well, 
I  will  not  have  him  on  the  sierra.  She  must  be  all  day 
in  the  cabin,  because  it  rains,  oh,  it  rains  in  torrents, 
and  he  is  sitting  on  the  edge  of  Deadman's  Gulch, 
holding  a  claim  which  Bob  Watriss  and  Jim  Blackeye 
want  to  run.  She  sees  nobody  and  nothing  for  the 
twelve  hours  of  every  day,  and  all  the  time  it  rains, 


AN  INTERMISSION.  229 

and  the  chimney  smokes,  and  her  meal  is  bad  ;  but 
she  must  have  the  supper  warm  and  nice  when  he 
comes  in.  And  she  must  not  lose  her  temper." 

Paul  Decker  looked  at  her  with  even  new  admira 
tion.  'You  have  been  there,"  he  said.  "That  is 
what  the  boys  would  say.  And  I  am  sure  you  did  not 
lose  yours."  This,  with  some  terror,  lest  he  was 
going  farther  than  he  might. 

But  Theodora  was  unconscious  of  compliment.  She 
sighed  :  ' '  Ah  me  !  I  wish  I  were  sure  of  that.  But 
you  are  right,  Mr.  Decker.  She  never  did — my  mother 
never  did.  Just  as  sunny  and  as  sweet  when  the 
chimney  smoked,  and  when  there  were  six  dirty 
Indians  squatting  round  the  fire,  as  she  was  on  her 
wedding-day.  And  once,  when  I  dared  ask  her  how  it 
was  that  she  never  once  broke  down,  when  I  was  as 
cross  as  a  bear,  she  smiled  with  the  smile  of  an  angel, 
and  she  said  to  me,  "  Dora,  dear — 

Then  Theodora  stopped,  and  she  said:  "No;  I 
don't  think  I  ought  to  repeat  what  she  said,  even  to 
you." 

"  Even  !"  The  moment  the  words  had  gone,  she 
saw  what  she  had  said,  and  if  anybody  could  have 
seen  her — her  cheeks  flushed  fire. 

Paul  Decker  noticed  them  as  well — never  doubt  that 
— and  he  could  have  shouted  with  his  exultation.  But 
Life  slides  on  without  hitches  or  delays,  whether 
young  people  do  or  do  not  make  slips  in  their  talk,  and 
at  this  moment  Hector's  loud  voice  was  heard. 

'  The  president  is  distressed  to  observe  the  laxity 
and  lack  of  discipline  of  the  company.  The  hours  are 
rapidly  ebbing,  and  to-day  will  soon  be  to-morrow,  or 
yesterday,  I  really  forget  which.  Meanwhile  I  under 
stand  that  the  preparations  are  all  made  for  the  ta- 


230  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

bleau,  and  Mr,  Paul  Decker  and  his  company  will  favor 
us  with  the  great  historical  painting  of 

"THE   APACHE'S   REVENGE." 

Paul,  good  fellow,  he  had  wholly  forgotten  the 
rigmarole  of  the  programme,  and  he  was  wholly  off  his 
guard. 

But  he  did  not  mean  to  have  that  party  of  people  all 
staring  at  him  and  at  Miss  Bourn,  in  the  deep  recess  of 
Number  3. 

With  the  audacity  of  genius,  he  sprang  forward, 
caught  from  the  rack  in  the  car  the  gilded  axe  which 
was  part  of  its  provision,  and  seized  up  Caesar's  feather 
duster  in  his  left  hand. 

Then  he  pretended  to  flourish  the  axe  over  the  head 
of  Professor  Wisner,  and  held  him  so  firmly,  that  the 
tableau  was  complete.  The  assembly  broke  into  ap 
plause. 

What  was  better,  no  one  dreamed  how  Paul  had  been 
occupied  the  moment  before. 

"And  now,"  cried  Hector,  "we  will  ask  Mr. 
Frechette  for  his  love  story,  and  then  the  hall  will  be 
cleared  for  dancing. ' ' 

"  My  love  story,  as  it  happens,  is  a  Christmas  story," 
said  Mr.  Frechette.  "  I  would  tell  it  as  my  friend,  Dr. 
Withers,  told  it  to  me  ;  but  as  all  the  others  have  read, 
I  am  modest  about  talking."  So  he  unfolded  a  news 
paper,  and  read  the  story  of 

NOTHING    TO    GIVE. 

A   CHRISTMAS   TALE. 

Nora  had  learned  some  things  at  school.  She  had 
learned  many  more  since  she  was  tossed  head  fore- 


NOTHING    TO  GIVE.  231 

most  into  that  sea  which  we  call  life  and  was  told  to 
swim. 

She  had  learned  a  great  deal  of  human  nature,  and, 
among  other  things,  of  her  own  nature  since  she  had 
been  the  head  book  keeper  at  Schweigel  &  Drum's. 

But  one  thing  she  had  not  learned.  She  had  not 
learned  that  when,  on  the  first  of  January,  you  plan 
your  expenses  for  the  year,  knowing  what  your  income 
is  to  be  and  wishing  not  to  exceed  it,  you  must  provide 
for  "  Monsieur  L'Impre*vu" — for  "  Mr.  Unexpected.'' 

A  wise  person,  in  laying  out  his  time  or  disposing,  in 
advance,  of  his  money,  leaves  full  half  for  the  expendi 
tures  of  this  monster.  We  never  expect  his  coming 
at  any  given  moment  ;  but,  all  the  same,  a  person 
who  has  learned  the  lesson  of  life  knows  very  well  that 
he  will  come  at  some  moment,  and  that  he  is  a  very 
expensive  visitor. 

Not  having  learned  this,  Nora  had  spent  in  this 
particular  year  very  close  to  the  margin,  and  so  she  had 
on  the  2Oth  of  December  just  five  dollars  left,  with 
which  to  buy  her  Christmas  presents. 

"  It  is  not  so  much  as  I  wish,"  said  Nora  ;  "but  I 
will  make  it  answer."  She  remembered  the  Japanese 
stores  and  Macy's  cheap  counters,  and  she  was  quite 
sure  she  could  make  her  five  dollars  do.  She  would 
take  leave  of  absence  from  the  desk  for  the  whole  of 
Wednesday  afternoon,  would  make  the  tour  of  the 
shops,  would  figure  over  the  prices,  and  then  in  a 
couple  of  hours  on  Thursday  she  could  make  all  her 
purchases. 

All  very  fine,  Nora,  if  "  Mr.  Unexpected"  do  not 
step  in. 

But  he  did  step  in.  When  Nora  came  home  Tues 
day  night  there  was  a  letter.  It  was  this  letter  : 


232  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE, 

ANN   VINTON  TO   NORA   AFFLITT. 

MT.  VERNON,  December  20. 

MY  DEAR,  DEAR  NORA  :  I  am  so  wretched  and  have  no  one  to 
turn  to  but  you.  Such  a  poor  creature  am  I,  as  I  always  was. 
And,  as  always,  you  are  my  only  help.  O  Nora,  what  shall  I  do  ? 
He  is  off  again,  God  knows  where  !  He  was  here— here  in  this 
house  for  four  days,  after  his  last  time.  O  Nora,  it  was  hell,  at 
first ;  and  then  I  really  pitied  him.  And  then  he  was  so 
wretched  himself  ;  and  he  begged  me  to  forgive  him  ;  and  he 
swore  on  his  knees,  and  he  took  the  Bible  in  his  hands,  that  he 
would  never  touch  liquor  again.  Then  he  dressed  himself  as 
well  as  he  could,  and  went  to  the  works,  to  beg  them  to  take  him 
on  again.  O  Nora,  why  did  I  not  go  with  him  ?  That  noon  he 
was  seen  at  that  horrible  Kirke's  saloon.  They  call  it  Hell-gate 
Lager,  and  they  call  it  well.  That  night  he  was  staggering 
along  the  canal  bank,  not  knowing  the  men  that  met  him,  and, 
Nora,  he  has  never  been  seen  since  !  What  shall  I  do,  Nora, 
and  where  shall  I  go  ?  There  has  not  been  a  spark  of  fire  on 
this  hearth  for  four  days,  and  I  have  begged  all  the  milk  I  have 
given  to  the  poor,  dear  babies.  I  get  on  with  almost  nothing. 
Write  me,  Nora,  something  and  tell  me  how  to  do.  I  know  you 
love  me,  and  you  are  wise,  and  I  was  always  foolish. 

Always  your  own  poor  ANN. 

This  letter  Nora  answered  by  enclosing  to  Ann 
Vinton  the  five  dollars  she  had  reserved  for  her 
presents.  She  did  not  go  to  the  Japanese  shops,  and 
the  crowd  at  Macy's  was  the  smaller  by  one,  because 
Ann  Vinton  had  written  this  letter. 

So  it  was  that  when  Christmas  eve  came  round,  Nora 
found  herself  sitting  in  her  little  room,  looking  into 
her  stove,  and  saying  to  herself  that  she  had  nothing 
to  spend  for  Christmas,  for  the  first  time  she  could 
remember  since  she  was  born. 

As  for  making  presents  with  her  hands  for  her 
friends,  well,  Nora  was  not  of  that  kind.  After  her 
day's  work  at  Schweigel  &  Drum's  she  was  in  no  con- 


NOTHING    TO   GIVE.  233 

X 

dition  to  paint  fans,  or  embroider  portieres,  or  to  cut 
out  and  glue  card-board.  "  All  very  fine,"  said 
Nora,  aloud,  "this  about  giving  yourself  to  your 
friends.  I  should  give  myself  away  very  soon,  if  I  tried 
that."  And  then  her  poor  little  joke  provoked  her. 
No  ;  they  must  do  without  poor  Nora's  presents  this 
time,  simply  and  squarely  because  "  I've  NOTHING 
TO  GIVE." 

There  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and,  at  Nora's  summons, 
Martha  Buchanan  entered.  She  was  a  girl  who  shared 
with  another  girl  the  attic  off  the  end  of  the  entry. 
Nora's  room  was  the  square  attic  room,  as  large  as  the 
front  parlor  and  only  five  stories  above  it.  Nora  took 
her  room  alone,  and  this  single  fact  would  have  given 
a  certain  distinction  to  her  among  the  seven  girls 
whose  lodgings  were  on  that  floor  ;  but,  to  say  truth, 
she  had  other  ways  of  earning  distinction,  and  her  head 
ship  was  recognized. 

"  Miss  Afflitt,  could  you  and  would  you  lend  me  a 
dollar  ?" 

Nora  laughed  ;  not  cynically,  even  good-naturedly. 
'  Take  my  purse,  Martha.  Take  my  all.  I  share  it 
with  you  willingly,"  and  she  gave  it  to  her. 

Martha  opened  it,  and  laughed  also.  "  Are  you  as 
hard  up  as  that  ?  Why,  I  can  do  better  than  that, 
Miss  Afflitt.  Shall  I  not  lend  you  something  ?" 

14  No,  dear  child.  There  are  only  two  devils  known 
to  me — one  is  drink  and  the  other  is  debt.  I  have 
only  to  start  fifteen  minutes  earlier  every  morning  and 
walk  to  the  store,  and  pay-day  is  on  the  3Oth  this  year, 
when  I  shall  be  fly  again."  Fly  was  a  cant  word  these 
girls  had  invented,  or  picked  up  from  the  short -hand 
girls  they  knew,  who  use  it  for  another  purpose. 


234  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A  PALACE. 

Nora  chattered  on  the  faster,  because  she  saw,  too 
late,  that,  in  condemning  debt,  she  had  censured 
Martha,  who  had  come  in  to  borrow. 

But  Martha  took  no  offence.  "  Oh  dear,  I  wish  I 
were  half  as  wise  as  you.  But  it  says  in  the  Book  that 
half  of  them  were  wise  and  half  were  foolish,  and  I 
suppose  that  is  the  way  always.  What  do  you  think 
I  wanted  the  dollar  for  ?" 

Nora  could  not  guess,  of  course.  Martha  told 
her. 

'  You  see,  I  have  a  dollar  and  a  half.  I  wanted  to 
treat  a  new  girl  there  is  in  our  store,  who  has  been 
good  to  me  ever  since  she  came.  She  is  in  the  cloak 
room,  you  know.  Well,  she  is  French,  I  believe — 
French  or  German  ;  and  I  was  going  to  ask  her  to  see 
Patti  with  me  to-night,  because  she  is  sort  of  lonely 
evenings,  and  I — well,  Miss  Nora,  you  know  I  am 
always  lonely."  And  poor,  silly  Martha's  face  fell  and 
looked  very  sad. 

Nora  doubted  what  to  do  or  to  say.  Then  she  was 
swept  away  by  The  Spirit.  She  determined  herself  to 
say  nothing  ;  but  the  moment  she  had  so  determined 
The  Spirit  possessed  her  and  they  said  together  : 

"  Martha,  I  don't  like  to  think  of  your  going  to  the 
theatre  so,  with  a  girl  you  don't  know  much,  and  with 
no  real  escort  of  your  own."  And,  if  Nora  had  not 
feared  to  seem  selfish,  she  would  have  added,  "  And 
on  borrowed  money."  "  Patti  is  all  very  nice  when 
a  nice  large  party  of  us  go  together  ;  or  Patti  would 
be  very  nice  if  she  would  come  around  and  sing  to  us 
here  ;  but  seems  to  me  I  would  not  go  much  to  the 
theatre  with — with  perfect  strangers. ' ' 

"  Will  you  go  with  me,  Nora — I  mean  Miss  AfHitt  ? 
I  do  so  hunger  and  thirst  for  the  opera  sometimes  ; 


NOTHTNG   TO  GIVE.  235 

and  to-night  it  is  '  Sonnambula. ' '      And  she  hummed 
an  air. 

"  Some  night,  dear  child,  when  we  are  not  all  in 
debt,  we  will  make  a  party  and  go  ;  but  to-night — " 

'  To-night  we  will  sit  up  here  and  read  '  Miss  Hester 
Chapone's  Letters  to  Young  Women'  and  top  off  with 
'  The  Last  Moral  Considerations  of  an  Expiring 
Saint.'  " 

Martha  was  erratic  and  whimsical,  and,  if  a  fit  of  in 
dignation  came  on  her,  she  did  not  fear  to  express 
herself. 

'We  will  be  virtuous,"  she  said,  with  a  sneer, 
"  though  we  have  no  cakes  and  by  no  means  any 
ale." 

Then,  as  if  one  outburst  had  settled  her,  she  started 
up,  and  said  : 

1 '  Well,  any  way,  I  can  get  a  gallery  seat  alone,  if  I 
cannot  ask  Miss  Gounod.  It  would  be  too  late  to  ask 
her  now,  if  I  had  the  dollar.  And  if  I  am  alone  I  had 
as  lief  sit  in  the  gallery.  That  is  what  I  shall  do." 
So  she  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

Nora  did  not  like  this  girl  ;  she  had  had  storm  after 
storm  with  her,  not  unlike  this  squall  ;  but  she  hated 
to  have  the  girl  go  to  the  bad,  if  she  could  help  it,  and 
she  had  the  feeling  come  over  her  that  this  was  one  of 
the  crisis  minutes.  She  spoke  as  before,  not  much 
knowing  why  she  spoke  or  what  she  said. 

"  Martha,  let  me  go,  too  ?  We  need  not  read  Hester 
Chapone." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  the  mad  creature.  "We  can  go 
to  a  vestry  meeting  and  hear  the  Rev.  Boanerges 
Howl's  tenth  lecture  on  the  seventh  city  of  the  plain. 
Do  let  us  go  there  together  !" 

' '  Dear  Martha,  do  be  patient.     I  had  meant  to  stay 


236  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

at  home  ;  but  it  is  stupid  here,  it  is  very  stupid.  If  I 
have  you  with  me,  I  shall  not  be  afraid  in  the  streets. 
Let  us  go  out,  if  we  only  see  the  children  flatten  their 
noses  against  the  toy-shop  windows.  Perhaps  Santa 
Claus  will  give  us  a  ride."  And,  on  the  impulse,  she 
put  on  her  Arctic  boots  and  her  waterproof. 

'  Will  you  go  to  Patti  and  sit  in  the  gallery,"  said 
the  girl,  amazed,  "just  to  keep  me  out  of  mischief? 
You  are  a  saint. ' ' 

"  I  did  not  say  that,"  said  Nora.  "  I  said  we  would 
see  what  we  would  see." 

It  was  one  of  those  very,  very  rare  Decembers  when 
a  heavy  snowfall  gives  for  once  the  joy  of  sleigh-bells 
for  a  day  or  two  even  to  the  crowded  avenues  and  to 
Broadway,  and  the  two  girls  had  hardly  walked  a 
hundred  paces  when  a  great,  open  sleigh,  crowded  with 
exultant  passengers,  swept  along.  It  was  a  sleigh 
which  one  of  the  street  railways  had  put  on,  while  their 
ploughing  was  yet  imperfect.  As  it  happened,  a  dozen 
people  left  it  at  that  crossing. 

"  It  is  for  us,  Nora,"  cried  the  impetuous  Martha, 
and  she  dragged  her  friend,  not  unwillingly,  upon  the 
vacant  seat.  The  horses  started  again,  and  for  the 
first  time  for  years  the  two  girls  found  themselves  on 
a  sleigh-ride — all  the  more  delightful  because  it  was 
absolutely  impromptu.  Nora  felt,  indeed,  as  if  Santa 
Claus  had  started  a  few  hours  early  for  the  special 
purpose  of  relieving  her  cares.  For  half  an  hour,  if 
for  no  more,  her  impetuous  friend  was  cared  for. 
Martha  succeeded  in  keeping  from  singing  ;  but  she 
exulted  wildly,  by  every  word  and  gesture  which  was 
within  any  definition  of  decorum.  And  Nora  hoped, 


NOTHING    TO   GIVE.  237 

and  hoped  rightly,  that  she -was  blowing  off  a  little  of 
her  pent-up  steam. 

But  the  ride  could  not  last  forever.  The  children  of 
the  public  can  have  a  good  deal  for  five  cents.  But 
even  five  cents  comes  to  an  end.  Not  far  from  the 
Battery  their  elegant  carriage  turned,  and  for  five  cents 
more  each,  Martha  providing  the  princely  entertain 
ment,  they  were  borne  back  as  far  as  Nora  dared  to  go. 

But  she  was  quite  wrong  when  she  left  the  sleigh,  if 
she  thought  Martha  had  seen  enough  of  the  gay  world. 
She  was  only  the  more  eager. 

"  Oh,  no,  dear  Miss  Afflitt.  Do  not  drag  me  home 
quite  yet.  Or,  if  you  are  cold,  go  without  me.  You 
said  I  might  see  the  children  flatten  their  noses.  You 
know  I  have — I  have  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  left.  I 
am  going  to  buy  some  tea  things  for  some  of  those 
little  wretches.  They  shall  not  look  in  at  the  windows 
for  nothing.  I  had  just  as  lief  go  alone." 

Poor  Nora  !  What  was  there  for  it  now  ?  It  was 
really  at  that  moment  that  this  story  begins. 

Yes,  I  believe  it  was  The  Spirit  which  moved  her. 
What  I  know  is  that  whoever  strives  to  will  AND  to 
do  of  his  good  pleasure  always  finds  out  how.  The 
AND  is  the  important  word.  If,  besides  willing,  we  do, 
it  is  sure  that  He  is  present  with  us. 

Nora  willed,  AND  did. 

"  Martha,  dear,  I  am  cold  ;  but,  if  you  will  come  into 
this  cafe  with  me,  till  I  am  warm  again,  then  we  will  go 
and  see  the  children  flatten  their  noses  at  Schwartz's. 
Come,  Martha,  really  it  is  not  very  bad  here."  And 
she  led  the  wild  girl  into  the  rather  dingy  cafe,  which 
the  "  Look-up  Legion"  of  the  Church  of  the  Disciples 


238  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

had  opened  in  a  cellar.  "Come  in,  Martha.  They 
have  burned  all  their  Chapone's  letters  to  warm  their 
coffee." 

"  Nora,"  said  Martha,  "  you  know  you  could  make 
me  go  into  the  jaws  of  death,  not  to  say  the  hotter 
place  ;  but  a  Coffee  House  of  Virtue  is  what  I  never 
did  try  before."  All  the  same  -she  went  in. 

"  Not  there,  Martha.     That  is  the  smoking-room." 

"  Right  you  are,"  said  the  girl,  laughing.  "  I  am 
not  yet  advanced  enough  for  cheroots.  I  told  Ben  so, 
last  Sunday." 

"  Now,  if  you  will  treat,"  said  Nora,  "  order  me  a 
piece  of  squash  pie  for  my  Christmas  and  a  two-cent 
cup  of  coffee." 

And  Martha  ordered  them  and  doubled  the  order  for 
herself.  And  Nora  sat  and  sipped,  and  Martha  sat  and 
sipped,  impatient. 

Nora  made  it  last  as  long  as  she  could  ;  but  it  would 
not  last  forever.  All  this  time  from  the  next  room 
was  a  harsh  clangor  from  a  piano,  sweet  enough  in 
tone,  but  horribly  played  by  some  dabster.  At  last, 
even  this  apology  for  music  stopped,  and  the  girls  could 
hear  eager  discussion. 

In  a  minute  a  motherly  woman  came  into  the  coffee- 
room. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  ladies  ;  but  is  there  anybody  here 
who  could  and  would  play  some  accompaniments 
in  '  The  Messiah  '  ?  They  are  very  simply  set,  and 
Mr.  Incledon  is  here  ready  to  sing  for  us,  if  any  one 
would  play." 

"  Do  you  believe  her?"  said  Martha,  excited. 

"  We  can  see,"  Nora  said.  "It  is  always  well  to 
test  liars."  She  saw  that  The  Spirit  was  taking  care 
of  her,  "  I  play  very  ill,  madam,"  said  she  to  the 


NOTHING    TO   GIVE.  239 

^s 

woman;  "but  I  knew  that  music  once;"  and  she 
gathered  up  her  gloves  and  asked  Martha  to  bring  her 
boots,  and  they  went  into  the  music-room. 

Perhaps  twenty  people  were  assembled  there.  There 
had  been  more,  but  the  jangling  amateur  had  driven 
all  the  others  away.  In  a  little,  Nora  was  at  her  seat ; 
the  artist  who  was  to  sing  had  shown  her  what  he 
needed,  and  then,  with  little  aid  from  Nora — indeed, 
little  was  needed — he  sang  one,  two,  three  of  those 
exquisite  airs,  all  inwrought  now  with  the  best  words 
of  Isaiah  ;  so  that  he  who  has  heard  Handel  cannot 
read  the  prophecy  without  the  rhythm  of  the  music 
recurring.  The  clear  tones  of  the  distinguished  artist, 
as  of  a  voice  from  heaven,  rang  through  all  the  low 
rooms.  One  and  another  straggler  came  in,  from 
coffee-room  and  from  billiard-room  ;  and  thus  so  many 
crowded  together  that  their  guest  ventured  to  propose 
this  duet  and  that  quartette — not  all  from  Handel  now, 
but  from  one  and  another  of  the  oratorios,  or  from 
one  and  another  opera,  or  sometimes  from  the  old 
"Academy  Collection"  or  the  "  Carmina  Sacra." 
Whoever  he  was,  he  knew  the  average  American 
audience  and  the  average  American  singer.  That 
night  he  had  better  luck  than  might  have  been 
expected.  Nora's  head  was  level,  and  she  was  not 
once  confused.  Whatever  he  placed  before  her  she 
could  play  at  sight.  Now  the  whole  assembly  sang 
"  Coronation  ;"  now,  by  some  magic  known  to  him,  he 
devised  that  such  a  visitor  could  and  should  sing  an 
Ave  Maria.  The  roll  of  music  he  brought  with  him 
seemed  Fortunatus's  bag.  The  Legion's  little  book 
case  of  music  yielded  treasures  not  guessed  at.  In 
some  chorus  he  caught  Martha's  voice  rich  and  even 
exuberant.  Before  she  knew  it,  he  had  her  singing  in 


340  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

a  four-part  glee,  and  a  billiard-marker  singing  the  bass, 
while  Nora  furnished  a  soprano  to  the  words,  then 
new,  of 

"  Sharp  cracks  the  rifle  yonder." 

Glee,  hymn,  catch,  ballad — four-part,  three-part,  two- 
part,  and  parts  of  all  sorts — succeeded  quickly,  till  it 
was  fairly  midnight. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen  all,  I  wish  you  a  merry 
Christmas,"  he  cried.  '  What  a  jolly  evening  we  have 
had  !  and  I  told  Brown  I  could  only  stop  here  for 
fifteen  minutes  !  But,  to  tell  the  truth,"  said  he,  bow 
ing  to  Nora,  "  I  did  not  expect  to  find  you  here.  We 
should  never  have  done  without  you."  Then,  as  he 
saw  how  the  girl  blushed  and  was  really  troubled,  he 
said,  laughing,  "  Nor  that  any  of  the  others  of  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  company  would  honor  us 
with  their  assistance.  Now  it  is  time  we  were  all  in 
bed,"  he  added,  "  only  I  must  sing,  were  it  only  for 
Santa  Claus's  sake,  '  Behold  how  brightly  breaks  the 
morning  !  '  And  he  unrolled  the  music  and  placed  it 
before  Nora,  and  he  sang  the  song,  oh  so  magificently  ! 
And  then  they  all  bade  each  other  a  merry  Christmas 
and  good-night,  and  started  home. 

'  Think  of  going  to  Sonnambula,  after  all,  Nora," 
said  Martha,  as  they  unlocked  the  door.  '  You  are  a 
witch.  I  have  found  you  out,  and  I  will  have  you 
hanged  some  day.  Dear  Miss  AfHitt,  forgive  me." 
Then  she  turned  suddenly,  and  kissed  Nora,  and  fell 
into  a  burst  of  crying,  as  they  found  their  dark  way 
up-stairs. 

It  was  a  year  after,  when  Forefathers'  day  came 
round  again,  and  Nora  began  planning  for  her  presents. 
She  had  learned  her  lesson  this  time.  She  had  fifty- 


NOTHING   TO   GIVE,  241 

two  dollars  and  interest  in  the  bank  and  ten  in  her 
purse. 

"  Where  shall  I  be  Christmas  eve  this  year?"  said 
she,  as  she  looked  into  her  stove,  now  a  year  more 
dingy;  for  never  did  the  "Rising  Sun"  touch  the 
sides  of  that  stove. 

"  I  wonder  where  my  poor  wild  cat,  Martha,  is  ?" 

At  this,  Draggle-tail,  the  maid-of-all-work,  brought 
up  two  letters,  which  had  come  by  the  late  delivery. 

And  Nora  told  her  that  for  reward  she  must  take 
a  quarter  of  a  dollar  to  buy  her  Christmas  presents 
with.  Thus  Nora  began,  and  Draggle-tail  departed  in 
delight. 

Letter  number  one  was  a  square,  elegant  thing, 
which  looked  like  an  invitation,  and  proved  to  be  one. 

First  Nora  took  out  two  cards.  Mrs.  James 
Heilbron  asked  her,  in  copper-plate  engraving,  to  be 
present  at  her  daughter's  wedding,  at  "  The  Church 
of  Life  Eternal,"  on  Christmas  eve.  And  there  was 
also  Mr.  Nahum  MacLeod's  card.  There  was  also  a 
note  from  Miss  Jessie  Heilbron,  who  was,  as  it  proved, 
the  bride.  Mr.  MacLeod  was  to  be  the  bridegroom. 

JESSIE   MACLEOD   TO   NORA   AFFLITT. 

DEAR  Miss  AFFLITT  :  You  do  not  know  me,  but  I  want  you  all 
the  more  at  my  wedding.  For  Mr.  MacLeod  wants  you  to 
come,  and  he  has  told  me  why.  If  you  do  not  know,  we  will  tell 
you  that  evening.  Always  yours  truly, 

JESSIE  HEILBRON. 

'This  is  a  Christmas  present  indeed,"  said  Nora, 
and  she  fell  wondering  and  guessing  who  Jessie  Heil 
bron  or  Nahum  MacLeod  might  be,  so  that  she  forgot 
the  other  letter  till  the  tea-bell  rang. 

When  it  rang  she  sprang  up  to  go  to  the  glass,  and 
the  other  letter  fell  upon  the  floor. 


242  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE 

MARTHA   BUCHANAN  TO   NORA   AFFLITT. 

DEAR  Miss  NORA  :  The  Heilbrons  have  asked  me  to  Jessicas 

wedding,    and  Jessie   says   she  has  asked  you.      Pray,    come. 

Call  for  me,  and  take  me,  for  I  am  going.     Dear,  dear  Miss 

Nora,  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you  and  everything  to  thank  you  for. 

Truly  yours,  "  FOOLISH  MARTHA." 

And  Martha's  address,  unknown  to  Nora  until  now, 
was  added. 

"  Wonders  upon  wonders,"  said  Nora,  aloud,  and 
she  locked  her  room-door  and  went  down  to  tea. 

The  evening  came  for  the  wedding.  Nora  ordered 
a  carriage  and  called  for  Martha,  as  she  had  arranged. 
She  was  not  delayed.  In  a  moment  the  eager  girl  was 
at  her  side.  So  soon  as  the  carriage  door  was  shut, 
she  seized  Nora's  hand  and  kissed  her  passionately. 
'  Why  have  I  not  ever  gone  to  see  you,  when  I  love  you 
so  much  and  am  so  grateful  ?  I  must  not  cry.  Only  I 
am  so  glad  and  I  cannot  help  it.  If  my  dress  is  spotted 
with  tears  and  I  look  like  a  fright,  you  will  know  it  is 
your  fault,  and  I  do  not  care.  Oh,  do  you  remember 
a  year  ago  ?  Oh,  dear  Miss  Afflitt,  when  I  think  what 
that  night  did  for  me  ;  and  when  I  think  what  might 
have  been,  for  I  was  just  wild  when  I  asked  you  for 
that  dollar." 

So  she  began,  and  then,  as  their  long  ride  went  on, 
Nora  was  able  to  extort  from  her  her  story. 

It  was  not  a  great  story,  after  all.  Only,  as  she  said, 
that  night  was  a  crisis.  The  cafe  was  the  place,  the 
singing  was  the  occasion.  Mr.  Incledon,  the  great 
singer,  had  spoken  of  her  voice  to  his  friend,  Mr. 
Hartmann,  the  organist.  The  two  had  readily  found 
her  address,  and  had  sent  for  her.  Mr.  Hartmann  had 
tested  her  voice,  and  had  advised  very  wisely  about 


NOTHINQ    TO  GIVE.  243 

its  training.  Mme.  Copp£e,  under  whose  care  he  had 
placed  her,  had  done  the  best,  really  the  best,  because 
the  kindest  things,  for  her  young  charge.  She  had 
surrounded  her  with  her  other  pupils.  She  had  pro 
vided  a  fit  place  for  the  girl  to  live  in.  Martha  moved 
to  it  while  Nora  was  at  home  at  New  Year,  and  so 
it  was  that  Nora  had  lost  the  trace  of  her.  Mme. 
Copp6e  had,  before  long,  relieved  her  from  the  daily 
drudgery  of  the  shop.  She  had  secured  for  her  an 
engagement  in  the  choir  of  the  Church  of  the  Disciples. 
"And,  Nora,  how  could  I  sing  there  ;  how  could  I 
meet  those  lovely  Price  girls  and  that  brave  Miss 
Sansom  ;  how  could  I  see  them,  strong  as  they  are 
and  beautiful,  all  drawing  their  life  from  The  Fountain; 
and  how  could  I  think  that  I  could  paddle  my  own 
canoe  ?  It  was  seeing  them,  Nora,  and  seeing  you  that 
saved  me  from  myself  and  brought  me  to  my  Leader." 

The  girl  said  this  in  triumph. 

"Only,  how  graceless,"  she  said,  "never  to  come 
to  you  to  tell  you  of  my  life  and  that  I  am  oh,  so 
happy  !  But,  Nora,  you  forgive  me.  For  it  was 
really  that  I  wanted  to  say  it  to  you  on  Christmas  Eve. 
And  to  think  we  should  be  riding  down  the  avenue 
again  together  now,  just  as  we  were  then." 

So  they  came  to  the  church,  and,  my  dear,  George 
Withers  married  the  handsome,  loyal  man,  and  the 
lovely,  true  woman.  And  then,  after  the  ceremony, 
Nora  and  Martha  rode  again  to  Mr.  Heilbron's  house, 
where  was  to  be  a  wedding-reception.  And  there,  in 
the  dressing-room,  as  Nora  arranged  Martha's  hair  and 
pinned  a  rosebud  at  her  breast,  she  could  not  but  see 
the  light  of  heaven  in  the  girl's  eyes.  It  was  clear 
that  no  one  would  think  "  she  brought  a  fright"  down 
stairs  with  her. 


244  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

And  after  the  mothers  and  fathers,  and  uncles  and 
aunts,  and  cousins-german  and  cousins-Swedish,  and 
second  cousins  and  third  cousins  removed  had  passed 
by  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  Nora  and  Martha,  last 
of  all,  without  any  usher,  moved  up  and  presented 
themselves.  Jessie  Heilbron  that  was,  Jessie  MacLeod 
that  is,  stepped  forward  to  meet  them. 

"  Dear  Martha,  you  are  so  good  to  come.  And  this 
is  your  beautiful  friend  ?" 

"  Thank  you  so  much  for  coming,  Miss  Afflitt,"  said 
the  bridegroom.  "  If  you  do  not  know  why,  she  shall 
tell  you.  No,"  said  he,  "  you  may  both  hear.  I  will 
tell  you  now." 

For  no  other  guest  followed  the  two  girls.  It  was 
in  the  lull  between  the  family  party  and  the  outside 
world. 

"  Do  you  believe  in  devils,  Miss  Afflitt  ?  A  year  ago 
the  devil  had  me.  The  worst  man  in  New  York  came 
into  the  cafe  where  I  saw  you  first,  as  he  had  come  be 
fore.  He  had  found  me,  as  he  had  found  me  before. 
He  asked  me  to  go  with  him  to  hell,  as  he  had  asked 
me  before.  And  I  was  at  the  door,  going,  with  my 
hand  on  the  handle,  when,  do  you  not  remember,  Incle- 
don  sang, 

"  '  Behold  and  see.' 

I  heard  just  that  strain.  And  I  came  within  one  of  say 
ing  :  '  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan. '  I  did  say  :  '  I 
think  I  will  not  go.  I  want  to  hear  this  man  sing.'  I 
put  the  devil  behind  me.  I  walked  through  to  the 
music-room,  and  you  were  at  the  piano,  and  this 
little  woman  was  behind  you. 

*'  Miss  Afflitt,  I  knew  Jessie  long  before,  and  I  loved 
her — she  knows  how  well  ;  but  she  had  told  me  she 


NOTHING    TO   GIVE.  245 

would  never  speak  to  me  again  if  I  did  not  break  with 
Carker.  And  I — I  should  have  gone  with  Carker  that 
night,  if  Incledon  had  not  sung 

"  '  Behold  and  see.' 

"  Miss  Afflitt,  what  do  you  think  I  said  to  her  the 
morning  after  Incledon  sang  ? 

"  I  said,  '  Jessie,  I  have  sent  him  to  his  own  place. 
So  help  me  God,  I  will  never  speak  to  him  again  ;  ' 
and,  Miss  Afflitt,  I  have  kept  my  word. 

44  And  that  is  why  we  sent  for  you  to-night  and  for 
Mr.  Incledon  to  the  wedding. 

"  Why,  here  he  is  !  Mr.  Incledon,  you  said  you  had 
never  met  Miss  Afflitt  again.  I  am  so  glad  to  present 
you." 

And  they  began  to  be  merry. 

For  this  my  son,  who  was  well-nigh  dead,  was  alive 
again.  He  had  been  lost  and  he  was  found. 

Three  happy  lives,  blessed  of  God  and  giving  joy  to 
man — these  were  the  harvest,  as  the  Spirit  orders,  of 
that  lonely  Christmas  eve,  when  poor  Nora  had 

NOTHING  TO  GIVE, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

GENERAL  WASHINGTON'S    PIG. 

AND  Mr.  Fr6chette  read  so  well,  and  with  so  much 
pathos  as  he  closed,  that  once  more  the  company  were 
silenced,  though  not  saddened,  and  fell  into  quiet 
Christmas  talk  for  a  moment,  which  even  Hector  did 
not  care  to  disturb. 

It  was  the  extra  conductor,  who  had  taken  our  train 
to  relieve  the  regular  conductor  at  Council  Bluffs,  who 
broke  the  silence,  and  said  :  "  I  have  a  queer  Christ 
mas  story  here,  which  perhaps  Mr.  Frechette  may  like 
to  read  also."  And,  when  Mr.  Frechette  hesitated, 
the  professor,  well  pleased  to  see  that  all  parties  were 
joining  in  the  entertainment,  asked  Mr.  Cox  if  he 
would  not  read  it  himself.  Mr.  Cox  said  the  pro 
fessor  would  read  it  better,  and  so  Dr.  Wisner  stood  up 
again  and  read  to  the  party  the  merrier  story  of 

GENERAL  WASHINGTON'S  PIG. 
I. 

' '  Was  ist  das  ?     Was  sagt  erf 

The  sergeant  replied  that  the  boy  was  rebellious,  and 
said  the  pig  was  his  own.  His  father  gave  it  to  him 
on  the  4th  of  July,  the  boy  said,  so  that  he  should 
always  remember  Independence. 

And  the  sergeant  grinned  a  very  savage  grin,  as  he 
made  this  report  to  his  major. 


GENERAL   WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  247 

v 

Poor  little  Oscar  looked  up  at  both  the  faces,  not 
understanding  a  word  of  the  German,  in  which  the 
sergeant  and  the  major  both  spoke  ;  but  he  understood 
well  that  the  drift  of  the  talk  was  against  him. 

"It  is  my  pig  !"  he  screamed,  again  ;  "its  name 
is  George  Washington,  and  when  he  comes  here  I  am 
to  give  it  to  him — if  I  want  to — and  if  I  want  to,  I  am 
to  have  it  for  my  own.  My  father  gave  it  to  me  on 
Independence  Day." 

Again  the  obsequious  sergeant,  with  a  grin, 
translated  the  words  to  the  major.  The  major  bade 
him  ask  Oscar  where  his  father  was  now,  and  why  he 
did  not  intervene  to  protect  him. 

Oscar,  alas  !  mad  with  rage  now,  was  only  too  will 
ing  to  tell.  His  father  was  with  his  regiment.  It  was 
only  last  Monday  that  he  had  bidden  Oscar  good-by. 
And  if  sergeant  and  major  did  not  look  well  for 
themselves,  his  father  and  General  MifHin,  and  all  the 
army,  would  be  down  upon  them,  and  they  would  rue 
the  day  when  they  had  interfered  with  his  pig  or  him. 

All  which  Sergeant  Zenger  explained,  as  decisively 
as  before,  to  Major  Grenau. 

"  I  will  tell  the  general  the  story,"  said  the  major. 
'The  pig  will  make  a  good  Christmas  dinner  for 
him.  As  for  the  brat,  shut  him  up  in  your  guard 
house  for  two  or  three  days,  and  teach  him  to  say, 
4  God  save  King  George. '  ! 

So  poor  Oscar  was  marched  off  to  the  guard-house, 
and  the  throat  of  poor  piggy  was  cut  before  fifteen 
minutes  were  over. 

II. 

Great  was  the  surprise  in  Mrs.  Winds's  house  that 
day,  when  Oscar,  the  most  punctual  of  boys,  did  not 


248  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

appear  at  dinner-time.  And,  though  one  and  another 
theory  was  constructed  to  account  for  his  absence,  poor 
Mrs.  Winds,  in  her  heart,  believed  none  of  them.  As 
soon  as  dinner  was  over,  she  arrayed  herself  and  began 
passing  from  house  to  house  in  the  village,  to  gather 
such  accounts  of  the  boy  as  she  could.  The  presence 
of  the  English  army  in  the  town  troubled  her,  but  she 
lived  just  outside  the  billet-line,  and  had  no  one 
quartered  on  her.  Her  children  had  been  diligently 
charged  not  to  visit  the  camp  on  any  pretence,  and  to 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  soldiers.  She  despatched 
Primus  in  one  direction,  and  Salome  in  another,  to 
inquire  of  certain  aunts  and  uncles,  who  might  pos 
sibly  have  taken  the  boy  out  of  town  with  them,  and  she 
sent  Sarah  down  to  the  South  Ferry  to  learn  if  the 
boy  had  strayed  there  to  see  his  cousin.  For  the 
boats  and  the  water  always  tempted  him.  For  herself, 
she  took  the  more  practical,  if  more  difficult  duty,  of 
house-to-house  inquiry. 

As  the  reader  knows,  she  did  not  find  Oscar  outside 
the  billet-line.  As  it  happened,  also,  she  did  not  find 
any  one  who  could  give  her  any  assistance.  Those 
who  said  they  knew  most  proved,  as  always,  to  know 
least,  and  most  of  them  broke  down  under  her  severe 
motherly  cross-examination.  She  visited,  literally, 
every  house,  and  as  she  came  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
thickly-built  street,  all  her  fears  were  renewed  lest 
the  boy  might  have  been  tempted  by  the  drum  and 
fife,  and  violated  her  orders.  He  was  a  soldier's  boy, 
alas  !  why  should  not  he  go  where  the  other  boys  went, 
to  see  a  parade  ?  Poor  Mrs.  Winds  !  As  she  trudged 
on  in  the  cold,  she  painted  to  herself  all  the  shame  of 
walking  in  through  a  crowd  of  tramps,  camp  followers 
and  dirty  Tories,  to  find  any  boy  of  hers  !  To  think 


GENERAL   WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  249 

that  one  of  them  should  be  spending  his  afternoon  in 
such  company  ! 

Worse  than  that,  alas  !  poor  mother  !  Into  the  first 
house  where  there  was  a  billet,  no  less  a  house  than 
Madam  Maxwell's,  she  went  with  her  inquiry,  to 
receive  the  answer  only  too  definite.  In  times  of 
peace,  Mrs.  Winds,  though  she  were  the  sturdy  wife  of 
an  honest  farmer,  would  have  hesitated  a  little  before 
she  paid  an  afternoon  visit  to  Madam  Maxwell.  But 
war  breaks  down  pasteboard  distinctions  ;  and  since 
war  came  Madam  Maxwell  had  more  than  once 
needed  Mrs.  Winds's  help  and  counsel,  and  thus  Mrs. 
Winds,  with  a  certain  ease,  put  her  questions  to  the 
stately  lady.  Madam  Maxwell  sent  at  once  for 
Darius,  the  negro  slave,  who  in  her  husband's  absence 
at  the  war,  was  master  of  the  establishment,  and  in 
two  minutes  poor  Mrs.  Winds  had  gained  the  clew  for 
following  her  poor  boy.  Darius  and  the  rest  had  seen 
a  Hessian  sergeant  with  a  pig  in  his  arms,  and  had 
seen  Oscar  running  madly  after,  defying  and  threaten 
ing  the  marauders,  though  he  could  not  overtake  them. 
Phcebe  even  testified,  truly  or  not,  that  she  had  tried 
to  stop  the  boy  ;  but  he  would  not  hearken,  but  tore 
away.  "  He  would  have  his  pig,"  he  had  said.  "  It 
was  his  own  pig,  and  his  father  had  given  it  to  him  on 
Independence  Day." 

Ill, 

Madam  Maxwell  gave  excellent  counsel  ;  but  Mrs. 
Winds  was  in  no  state  to  receive  counsel.  She  could 
hardly  wait  with  civility  for  the  end  of  the  stately  speech 
of  the  dignified  lady.  She  went  in  pursuit.  She  passed 
quickly  up  the  main  street,  meaning,  indeed,  to  come 
to  the  rescue  in  person.  Since  the  troops  arrived,  she 


250  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

had  scornfully  refused  to  enter  the  town.  But  the 
gossip  of  the  neighborhood  had  told  her  where  the 
general  was  quartered  ;  and,  indeed,  the  instinct  of  a 
soldier's  wife  would  have  led  her  to  the  inn,  which  men 
still  called  the  ' '  Crown  and  Rose, ' '  where  a  sort  of 
market-place  is  made  by  the  crossing  of  the  road 
which  comes  from  the  ferry  into  that  main  street, 
on  which  she  was  hurrying  on.  At  the  Crown  and 
Rose,  the  red-cross  flag  indicated  well  enough  that 
here  were  headquarters.  Two  Hessian  sentinels  under 
took  to  parley  with  her  ;  but  she  only  addressed  them  in 
very  loud  and  peremptory  English.  She  made  no  sign 
of  stopping,  but  waved  them  away  with  the  disdain 
of  Queen  Katherine  or  of  Lady  Macbeth.  The  men 
had  been  scolded  a  dozen  times  already  since  they 
were  put  on  duty,  for  one  and  another  thing  which 
they  had  done,  in  what  they  thought  obedience  to 
orders.  A  dozen  women  had  come  in  and  out  with 
adjutant's  passes.  Perhaps  this  one  would  not  show 
her  pass.  If  she  did,  they  knew  they  could  not  read 
it. 

So  Mrs.  Winds  fought  her  way  in  and  was  able  to 
guess  her  way  into  the  very  presence  of  the  general. 

IV. 

"  Was  ist  das?  Was  sagt  sie  ?"  said  the  general  in 
his  turn,  looking  with  eyes  somewhat  bleared,  through 
the  cloud  of  smoke  which  enveloped  him  and  his  aids. 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  does  she  say  ?"  The  aid,  who 
was  least  stupefied  by  beer,  and  who,  as  it  happened, 
knew  most  English  of  the  party,  asked  Madam  Winds 
to  speak  more  slowly,  and,  with  some  difficulty, 
extorted  the  details  of  the  story.  When  he  had  done 
so  he  turned  good-naturedly  enough  to  the  general 


GENERAL   WASHINGTON^  PIG.  251 

and  said,  "  She  has  lost  her  little  boy,  and  she  wants 
to  find  him." 

"  Her  little  boy,  what  is  that  to  me?"  hiccoughed 
the  general  ;  "he  is  not  my  boy."  And  he  laughed 
stupidly  enough.  "  Tell  her  to  go  about  her  business." 

The  aid  turned  to  make  this  uncivil  reply  a  little 
civil. 

"Tell  him,"  said  Lucretia  Winds  stiffly,  "that  if 
he  does  not  know  where  Oscar  Winds  is,  he  can  find 
out.  Tell  him  I  shall  stay  here  till  he  does  find." 

And  she  drew  one  of  the  wicker-bottomed  arm-chairs 
out  from  the  wall  and  sat  down  in  it  in  front  of  the 
fire. 

"  Was  ist  das?  Was  sagt  sie  f  said  the  general 
again,  observing  the  movement  more  than  the  accent 
of  the  woman. 

The  aid  was  pretty  well  frightened  by  this  time  ;  but 
he  explained  as  well  as  he  might  the  substance  of 
Lucretia  Winds's  defiance. 

Of  which  the  issue  was,  as  need  hardly  be  said,  that 
in  less  than  five  minutes  a  file  of  red  coats  had  taken 
Lucretia  Winds  and  had  marched  her  also  to  the 
guard-house. 

V. 

Madam  Maxwell  waited  at  her  window,  somewhat  un 
easily,  to  watch  for  Mrs.  Winds's  return.  Mrs.  Winds 
did  not  return,  as  the  reader  knows.  Madam  Max 
well  became  more  and  more  uneasy.  When  it  was 
nearly  sundown  she  bade  Darius  send  round  the 
carriage,  and  Darius,  who  happened  to  find  life  dull  and 
was  willing  to  try  some  adventure,  consented.  The 
carriage  came  round  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  and 
Madam  Maxwell,  elegantly  arrayed  for  a  visit,  entered 


252  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

it  at  once.  She  bade  Philemon,  the  coachman,  take 
her  at  once  to  the  house  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Spencer,  the 
minister  of  the  church.  The  distance  was  but  a  trifle, 
and,  in  a  few  minutes  more,  the  dominie,  as  all  men 
called  him,  was  sitting  in  Madam  Maxwell's  carriage, 
in  conference  with  her.  Yet  a  few  minutes  more,  and 
he  appeared  again  from  the  parsonage  with  his  shovel- 
hat  of  state,  and  dressed  in  an  elegant  winter  coat 
trimmed  with  fur.  Philemon  was  bidden  to  drive  to 
the  Crown  and  Rose,  and  did  so.  The  dominie 
bade  the  sentinel  say  that  Madam  Maxwell  and  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Spencer  wished  to  see  the  officer  of  the  day. 
In  a  few  moments  they  were  ushered  into  the  same 
room  from  which  Mrs.  Winds  had  been  so  unceremo 
niously  ejected. 

The  general  was  still  there.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  the  Hessian  beer  was  not  light,  and  that  he  was 
more  stolid  even  than  when  Mrs.  Winds  parted  from 
him.  Madam  Maxwell  had  taken  the  dominie  with  her, 
with  the  double  hope,  first,  that  his  dignity  and  the  re 
spect  due  his  cloth  would  carry  some  weight  in  the  in 
terview  ;  second,  with  a  vague  feeling  that  the  Latin 
language  might  be  the  medium  of  communication  with 
the  general.  She  had  heard  her  father  say  that  Sir 
Robert  Walpole  talked  Latin  with  George  the  First. 

In  fact,  Mr.  Spencer  began  his  courtly  address  to  the 
aid  by  saying,  ' '  Salve,  Domine, "  as  he  bowed  respect 
fully.  But  the  German  had  not  the  least  idea  what  he 
meant,  and,  in  fact,  spoke  English  quite  well  enough 
for  all  purposes  of  the  interview. 

The  dominie  explained  that  they  had  come  in  search 
of  Mrs.  Winds.  In  perfect  good  faith,  the  officer 
expressed  his  ignorance  and  surprise.  It  really  did  not 
occur  to  him  that  people  whose  social  rank  he  appre- 


GENERAL    WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  253 


« 


hended  from  the  first  moment  had  anything  in 
common  with  the  farmer's  wife,  whom  he  had  early  in 
the  afternoon  sent  out  to  the  lock-up.  With  no  wish  to 
deceive,  he  said  that  he  knew  nothing  of  the  lady  they 
sought,  and  intimated,  as  people  in  office  are  apt  to  do, 
that  they  had  both  come  to  the  wrong  bureau.  The 
dominie  turned  to  Madam  Maxwell  for  instructions, 
somewhat  relieved  to  find  that  he  could  conduct  the 
conversation  in  honest  English. 

Madam  Maxwell  hated  all  Hessians.  She  suspected 
a  lie.  With  great  sternness  she  told  the  dominie  what 
Darius  had  told  her  :  that  Mrs.  Winds  had  been  seen 
to  enter  the  Crown  and  Rose  two  hours  before. 
As  it  happened,  Darius  had  no  knowledge  of  '\er 
method  of  departure,  which  had  been  conducted  with 
some  privacy. 

The  adjutant  was  puzzled  ;  called  an  orderly  and 
spoke  in  German,  and  asked  one  or  two  questions 
again.  Of  course,  he  perceived  in  a  moment  more  that 
the  other  woman,  resolute  or  crazy,  who  had  announced 
her  intention  of  waiting  for  her  son  in  the  general's 
office,  was  the  person  whom  his  guests  were  seeking. 
Half  amused,  he  told  the  dominie,  only  too  frankly, 
where  the  prisoner  was.  Of  course,  Madam  Maxwell 
heard  the  explanation. 

She  rose  to  her  full  height.  "  Mistress  Winds  in 
your  filthy  guard-house  !"  she  cried  indignantly.  "  It 
is  an  infamy.  Give  an  order  for  her  release  imme 
diately." 

Mr.  Spencer  knew  very  well  that  it  was  not  by  such 
language  that  a  Hessian  adjutant  was  to  be  led.  He 
did  his  best  to  soothe  his  principal,  and  he  succeeded 
so  far  as  to  make  her  sit  down  and  listen,  for  a  moment, 
to  his  advocacy  of  her  cause. 


*54  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

The  dominie  felt  all  the  importance  of  the  crisis. 

In  a  vague  hope  that  the  general  might  understand 
him,  he  turned  to  him  and  began  with  the  best  pro 
nunciation  of  Princeton,  to  address  both  officers  in 
Latin. 

"  Si  placet  vobis,  Domini,"  he  said,  somewhat  con 
fidently.  But  the  amazement  on  the  adjutant's  face 
controlled  him,  and  he  went  on  in  more  hurried 
English. 

"  I  assure  you,  gentlemen,  I  assure  you,  my  lords," 
for  the  "Domini"  still  stuck  in  his  head,  "  these  are 
our  most  respectable  citizens.  Captain  Winds  and 
Colonel  Maxwell  are  two  of  our  most  worthy  citizens. 
These  ladies  are  both  worthy  of  your  entire  consider 
ation." 

The  officer  tapped  impatiently  with  his  foot  upon 
the  floor. 

41  Mrs.  Maxwell  wishes  to  explain  to  the  general 
that  the  mother  is  well-nigh  beside  herself,  because 
she  has  lost  her  child.  Have  not  you  a  child  ?  Has 
not  the  general  a  child?"  said  the  dominie,  rising 
to  pathos. 

"  No  brats  have  I  ;  no  brats  have  the  general,"  cried 
the  officer,  impatiently. 

'  This  is  one  free  country,  indeed,"  he  said,  rising 
from  his  chair.  The  boys  expect  His  Majesty's  officers 
to  find  their  pigs  !  The  crazy  women  expect  His  Ma 
jesty's  officers  to  find  their  boys  !  The  ladies  of  the 
court  expect  His  Majesty's  officers  to  find  the  crazy 
women  !  And  I  suppose  next  I  shall  have  His  Honor 
the  Burgomaster,  and  His  Excellency  the  Swineherd, 
coming  here  to  inquire  what  has  become  of  the  fine 
lady  and  the  court  preacher." 

He  moved  his  hand  toward  the  door,  to  intimate  that 


GENERAL   WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  255 

the  interview  was  ended  ;  called  an  orderly,  bade  him 
put  a  log  of  wood  upon  the  fire,  and  sat  down,  turning 
his  back  to  his  visitors. 

The  dominie  saw  the  meaning  of  the  adjutant,  and  in 
one  rash  moment  sealed  his  own  fate.  He  crossed  the 
room,  and,  with  a  quick,  almost  impetuous,  gesture, 
seized  the  hand  of  the  general,  and  cried  eagerly  and  in 
a  loud  voice,  because  he  spoke  to  a  man  of  another 
nation  : 

"Audito,  audito,  obsecro,  domini,  verba  labrorum," 
"  Hear  me,  hear  me,  sir,  I  beg  you,  these  words  of  my 
lips. "  But  he  went  no  further.  The  general  was  stupid 
with  beer,  almost  to  the  point  of  incompetency,  quite 
to  that  of  fatuity.  Either  because  he  was  drunk  enough 
to  think  himself  attacked,  or  because  he  was  angry 
enough  to  think  himself  insulted,  he  struck  with  his 
fist  a  square  blow  in  the  dominie's  face,  and  seized 
him  by  the  collar  of  his  coat. 

Madam  Maxwell  rushed  forward,  she  hardly  knew 
why.  The  orderly  flung  down  his  log  and  threw  him 
self  upon  both  of  them.  The  adjutant  turned  at  the 
noise,  rushed  across  the  room,  and  in  his  action  threw 
down  the  table  on  which  the  candles  stood.  The  sun 
had  already  set,  and  the  red  fire  gave  the  only  light 
upon  the  scene. 

The  voice  of  the  general,  mingling  imprecations 
and  command,  called  in  the  officer  of  the  day  and  a  file 
of  soldiers.  By  this  time  the  orderly  had  the  parson's 
hands  tightly  held  behind  him. 

The  general  gave  the  soldiers  some  very  peremptory 
and  profane  directions  ;  and,  in  a  minute  more,  the 
parson  and  Madam  Maxwell  in  their  turn  were 
marched  to  the  guard -house  to  spend  the  night  in 
company  with  Mrs.  Winds  and  with  Oscar. 


256  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

VI, 

So  easily  did  it  happen,  or  so  hardly,  as  the  reader 
may  choose  to  have  it,  that  Mrs.  Winds  and  her  son, 
Madam  Maxwell  and  her  minister  spent  their  Christ 
mas  together  in  the  school-house,  where  Oscar  had 
often  been  whipped,  and  where  the  dominie  had  often 
heard  the  catechism  of  the  children.  The  officer  in 
charge  was,  perhaps,  one  of  the  few  people  on  that 
outpost  who  was  thoroughly  sober  as  Christmas  day 
came  in.  He  had  been  annoyed  when  Oscar  was 
brought  to  him,  angry  when  Mrs.  Winds  came,  and 
now  was  fairly  horrified  when  Madam  Maxwell  and 
the  dominie  were  brought  in.  He  knew  quite  enough 
of  the  temper  of  the  people  to  know  that  such  an 
insult  was  enough  to  rouse  them  to  bring  the  whole 
building  about  his  head,  if  only  every  white  man  in 
the  town,  as  he  well  knew,  had  not  been  away 
under  Colonel  Maxwell's  command.  And  he  was 
soldier  enough  and  gentleman  enough  to  know  that 
such  retaliation  was  well  deserved.  He  did  his  best, 
therefore,  to  make  his  prisoners  comfortable.  When 
Darius  arrived,  soon  after  his  mistress,  the  major  did 
not  repress  his  suggestion  that  he  could  bring  down 
from  the  manse  and  from  the  mansion  something  for 
the  supper  and  the  other  comforts  of  all  parties. 
Darius  had  served  with  his  master  in  other  wars  ;  and 
although,  to  his  rage,  he  was  now  regarded  as  quite 
too  old  to  take  the  field  again,  he  had  not  forgotten 
that  the  commissariat  is  the  most  important  single 
element  in  any  campaign. 

Still  it  would  be  absurd  to  say  that  either  of  the  three 
rescuers  slept  much  that  night.  As  for  Oscar,  not 
rescued  after  all,  he  slept  as  well  as  even  the  poor  pig 
had  ever  slept,  who  had  been  the  unwilling  cause  of 


GENERAL    WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  257 

the  whole  calamity.  Oscar  had  had  appetite  quite 
sufficient  for  the  supper,  even  sumptuous,  which 
Darius  had  brought  down  to  the  guard-house.  He 
had  proposed,  unsuccessfully,  to  his  mother  that  they 
should  play  school  with  these  admirable  appurte 
nances,  of  a  real  rod  and  real  benches,  and  he  had  even 
shyly  intimated  that  the  dominie  could  hear  them  both 
say  the  catechism.  But  his  mother  had  no  heart  for 
such  amusement,  at  best  but  sombre.  To  Oscar,  since 
her  arrival,  the  imprisonment  had  wholly  ceased  to  be 
a  punishment.  Indeed,  while  the  school-house  was 
detestable  to  him  at  the  regular  hour  and  in  the  proper 
way,  there  was  a  wild  delight  to  him  now,  that  he 
could  sleep  in  the  master's  chair  if  he  would,  or  dance 
from  bench  to  bench,  not  blamed.  He  slept  the  sleep 
of  childhood,  and  waked  to  a  boy's  indifference  as  to 
the  future. 

And,  in  the  morning,  the  "  incident  would  have  been 
exhausted,"  perhaps,  as  our  French  friends  say,  had  it 
not  been  Christmas  day.  But  alas  !  when  the  major 
himself  repaired  to  headquarters  to  obtain  some  sort 
.of  permission  to  release  his  captives,  he  found  no  one 
in  a  condition  to  give  it. 

The  preparations  for  Christmas  made  by  the  general 
and  by  the  headquarters'  staff  began  so  early,  and  the 
drinking  they  had  thought  necessary  had  proved  so 
deep,  that  the  subordinate  officers  even  had  soon  found 
themselves  without  oversight,  and  had  followed  the 
welcome  example  of  their  seniors.  To  the  poor  major, 
as  he  entered  the  Crown  and  Rose,  it  was  clear  enough 
that  those  who  were  not  dead  drunk  were  dead  asleep, 
and  that  he  must  act  on  his  own  responsibility.  Alas  ! 
he  knew  too  well  his  general's  temper  when  he  waked 
from  such  sleep,  and,  knowing  that,  he  dared  not  set 


258  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

his  prisoners  at  large.  It  was  only  too  far  probable 
that  the  general  might  have,  the  next  day,  some  recol 
lection  of  his  prisoners  and  ask  what  had  become  of 
them. 

So  Darius  brought  down  to  the  school-house  the 
rabbit  pie  which  Madam  Maxwell  had  garnished  with 
her  own  hands  for  a  Christmas  breakfast  piece,  with 
tarts,  cakes,  waffles,  and  other  dainties,  enough  for 
twenty  people,  and,  by  the  major's  permission,  him 
self  entered,  for  the  first  time,  the  place  of  confine 
ment,  and  spread  these  viands  on  the  schoolmaster's 
table.  His  own  proposition  was  that  the  whole  party 
should  escape  from  the  back  window  ;  and  he  ex 
plained,  only  too  loudly,  the  means  by  which  he  and 
Primus  would  assist  and  cover  this  manoeuvre.  But 
Madam  Maxwell  and  the  dominie  were  still  on  the 
high  ropes  of  indignation.  '  They  have  haled  us  to 
prison  openly  and  uncondemned,  being  Romans— I 
mean  Britons — I  mean  Americans,"  said  the  parson, 
in  an  oratory  which  failed  him  a  little  at  the  close, 
"  and  now  do  they  put  us  out  privily.  Nay  verily,  let 
them  come  themselves  and  fetch  us  out."  And  it  was 
all  in  vain  for  Darius  to  suggest  that  both  the  general 
and  the  officer-of-the-day  were  quite  too  drunk  to 
do  any  such  thing. 

Darius  had  to  satisfy  himself,  therefore,  when  noon 
day  came,  by  placing  his  ladder  at  the  large  window 
of  the  school-house,  and  by  this  inconvenient  route 
bringing  up  the  roast  goose,  the  mince  pies,  and  the 
Marlboroughs,  and  the  other  delicacies  which  were  to 
make  the  Christmas  dinner  of  the  prisoners.  The 
major  would  have  made  no  difficulty  about  receiving 
them  through  the  door  in  the  ground  floor.  But 
seeing  that  the  stealthy  route  pleased  the  negro,  he 


GENERAL   WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  259 

kept  himself  and  his  sentinels  discreetly  out  of  the 
way.  When  the  dinner  was  served  the  parson  so  far 
relented  as  to  ask  the  major  and  his  aid  to  join  them, 
which  they  were  not  sorry  to  do.  All  parties  had 
better  appetites  than  might  have  been  feared.  And 
when  the  soldiers  at  last  withdrew  the  parson 
compelled  the  two  ladies  to  join  him  in  a  modest  glass 
of  Madeira,  as  he  drank  "  Long  life  to  General  Wash 
ington,  and  confusion  to  the  King  of  England." 

Neither  Mrs.  Winds  nor  Madam  Maxwell  would  have 
believed  that  Christmas  day  could  be  made  to  pass 
by  so  quickly  in  a  school-house.  But  the  sun  seemed 
to  set  earlier  than  ever.  Darius's  stately  sconces  from 
the  manor-house  gave  but  little  light  after  all.  A 
grim,  quiet  snow-storm  had  begun  without.  The 
ladies  felt  now  the  loss  of  last  night's  sleep.  Darius 
had  made  better  preparation  for  their  comfort,  and 
they  slept  soundly.  Even  the  parson,  after  adjusting 
for  the  fourth  time  the  language  of  his  memorial  to 
the  Continental  Congress,  on  the  indignity  which  he 
had  suffered,  lost  the  connection  of  his  thought,  and 
slept  as  soundly  as  they. 

VII. 

Trrrrr .  .  .  .  !     Rat-tat-tat !     Bourn,  bourn,  bourn  ! 

"  Mein  Gott !    was  ist  das  ?    'S-Waffen,  'S-Waffen  !" 

The  major  had  just  time  to.  utter  these  cries,  his  aid, 
who  was  wrapped  in  a  blanket  and  asleep  on  the  floor, 
had  just  staggered  to  his  seat  and  was  searching  for 
his  sabre,  when,  with  a  crash,  the  door  of  the  school- 
house  flew  open,  and  a  file  of  snow-white  soldiers 
dashed  in. 

"  Prisoners,"  cried  the  first,  carrying  his  bayonet 
sharply  w  advance.  "  Surrender  !" 


260  OUR    CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

The  major  threw  up  his  hand  in  military  salute,  as 
token  that  he  made  no  resistance,  and  bade  his  aid 
submit  as  well.  As  one  and  another  Hessian  private 
straggled  in  from  the  back  room,  where  they  had  been 
piled  together,  their  commander  bade  them  lay  down 
such  arms  as  they  had. 

Maxwell,  the  American  officer  in  command,  asked  if 
there  were  any  troops  up-stairs. 

"  Drei  Gefangene"  said  the  major,  and  Maxwell 
was  philologist  and  soldier  enough  to  guess  that  this 
meant  "  three  prisoners."  He  ran  up  in  person  to 
relieve  them,  and,  to  his  amazement,  rushed  into  the 
arms  of  his  frightened  wife  ! 

The  prisoners  had  heard  the  alarm  ;  had  supposed 
that  there  was  a  drunken  fight  in  the  street,  and  were 
wondering  if  their  last  hour  was  come. 

VIII. 

The  snow  was  quite  too  deep  for  Madam  Maxwell  or 
for  Mrs.  Winds  to  attempt  to  walk  home.  But  with 
a  few  minutes'  delay,  Philemon  arrived  with  the  same 
equipage  which  had  served  for  the  unfortunate  visit  to 
the  Crown  and  Rose. 

As  Colonel  Maxwell,  with  the  two  ladies  and  the 
little  boy,  drove  rapidly  through  the  street,  a  detail  of 
soldiers  bearing  a  body  on  stretchers  met  them. 
Maxwell  waved  his  hand  to  the  sergeant  in  command, 
and  stopped  Philemon. 

"  It  is  he  !  it  is  he  !"  said  each  of  the  women,  as 
they  saw  the  white  face  which  looked  upward,  so 
silent,  just  snatching  breath,  from  the  Hessian  soldier's 
cloak. 

This  was,  indeed,  General  Rail,  who  had  sentenced 
them  to  their  prison.  He  had  staggered  out  from 


GENERAL    WASHINGTON'S  PIG.  261 

the  Crown  and  Rose,  and  mounted  his  horse,  only 
to  ride  far  enough  along  the  street  to  meet  a  soldier's 
death. 

"  Indeed,  Maxwell,  I  would  stay  a  month,  as  you 
know,  gladly,  at  another  time.  But  to-day  !" 

Thus  did  General  Washington  answer  Colonel  Max 
well's  eager  invitation  that  he  and  the  staff  should  dine 
with  him. 

"General,"  said  the  colonel,  in  reply,  "you  must 
dine  somewhere.  These  fellows  will  be  marched  off 
not  before  three.  Our  rear  guard  will  not  leave  an 
hour  before  four.  If  you  do  not  come,  Darius  here 
will  cut  his  throat.  My  wife  and  my  girls  will  die, 
and  on  your  head  be  it. 

Washington  laughed,  relented,  and  the  staff,  not 
unwilling,  left  the  rather  dubious  hospitality  of  the 
Crown  and  Rose. 

Philemon  had  the  joy,  not  to  be  described,  of  driv 
ing  his  four  beloved  bays,  whom  he  had  rescued  from 
Hessian  captivity,  as  in  slow  movement  the  colonel's 
open  sleigh  bore  Washington,  Sullivan,  Reed  and  the 
black  man's  master,  through  a  throng  of  admiring 
women,  children,  negroes  and  soldiers,  all  cheering 
and  rejoicing. 

Madam  Maxwell,  in  her  brocade  of  ceremony, 
received  the  distinguished  party.  Good  Mistress 
Winds,  her  companion  in  adversity,  was  not  far 
away. 

Nor  was  the  repast  long  withheld.  "  In  these  times 
of  war  we  can  wait  for  no  one,'*  said  the  proud 
colonel. 

The  dominie's  blessing  covered  wide  ground.  It 
alluded  to  the  captivity  of  the  Israelites,  and  to  their 


262  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A   PALACE. 

redemption  by  Moses,  to  the  imprisonment  of  Paul 
and  Silas,  and  the  earthquake  which  shook  the  prison. 

At  last  he  said,  "Amen  !" 

Darius  had  not  dared  till  then  to  take  the  pig  from 
the  fire.  He  knew  the  dominie  too  well. 

Then  he  brought  his  largest  platter,  with  the  pig 
cooked  whole,  holding  a  large  carrot  between  his  ivory 
teeth. 

He  placed  him  before  General  Washington. 

"  General,"  said  Maxwell,  standing,  "  let  me  intro 
duce  to  you  your  own  pig."  And  he  told  the  general 
the  story. 

'Where  is  the  boy,  where  is  the  boy  ?"  cried  the 
general,  laughing. 

Oscar  appeared,  blushing  to  his  hair. 

"  My  lad,"  said  Washington,  "it  is  not  every  boy 
who  can  give  up  his  pig  for  his  country,  or  defy  a 
Hessian  general  at  his  headquarters.  Will  you  drill  all 
the  boys  in  Trenton,  my  lad,  that  I  may  have  them 
ready  when  I  need  them  ?' ' 

Oscar  stammered  out  his  willingness. 

Five  years  after,  as  Washington,  with  Rochambeau, 
and  the  brilliant  staff  which  attended  both,  rode  away 
from  the  dusty  field  at  Yorktown,  where  the  "  great 
atonement"  had  been  made  in  the  great  surrender, 
the  great  chief  beckoned  to  his  youngest  aid,  Lieu 
tenant  Winds. 

A  handsome,  beardless  boy  rode  up  and  saluted. 

"Oscar,"  said  the  general,  "I  think  your  pig  is 
paid  f or  ! " 

As  the  professor  read,  Hector  had  withdrawn  Mrs. 
Frechette  for  a  minute,  and  they  had  conferred. 


BLINDMAN'S-BUFF  IN  A   PULLMAN.  263 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  when  the  story 
was  done,  "the  exercises  will  close  with  '  Old  Hun 
dred.  '  '  And  everybody  sang  : 

"From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies." 

And  the  snow  men  shook  hands  and  left  the  palace, 
and  most  of  the  rest  of  the  party.  Only  Hector  hinted 
to  a  few  of  the  forward  passengers  that  Christmas  was 
not  quite  over  yet.  When  there  were  only  ten  or  fif 
teen  of  us  left  in  the  car,  he  clapped  his  hands,  and 
said  : 

' '  I  was  obliged  to  wait  till  we  had  a  little  more  space. 
We  will  conclude  our  Christmas  with  '  Blindman's- 
Buff  in  a  Pullman/  " 

On  the  instant  he  leaped  upon  his  seat,  bandaged  his 
eyes,  began  to  count  a  hundred,  giving  all  of  us  warn 
ing  that  at  the  "  hundred"  he  should  break  loose  upon 
us  all. 

Oh,  the  wild  rebel  rout  that  followed  !  The  crazy 
difficulty  of  stepping  out  of  his  way  from  seat  to  seat, 
avoiding  and  yet  seeking  the  passage-way,  and  the 
multiplication,  indeed,  tenfold  of  the  usual  perplexity, 
of  the  game  by  interweaving  it  with  the  perplexities  of 
palace  life.  The  handkerchief  changed  a  dozen  times 
before  the  game  came  to  an  end,  from  the  mere  bodily 
exhaustion  of  us  who  had  been  laughing  ourselves  into 
tears,  as  we  wildly  leaped  from  section  to  section. 

"  Good-night  all,  good-night  all.  Where  will  the 
morning  find  us  ?" 


CHAPTER  THE  LAST. 

PAUL  DECKER  did  not  go  to  bed  early.  He  sought 
out  for  himself  a  lonely  nook  in  front  of  the  trunks  in 
the  baggage-car,  where,  on  a  three-legged  chair,  he 
reflected,  and  considered  the  position  : 

"  Even  to  you,"  she  had  said.  "  Even."  This  was 
the  only  word  by  which  she  had  intimated  that  he  was 
in  any  way  different  to  her  from  any  other  man  who 
lived. 

And  it  was  not  forty-eight  hours  since  he  first  saw 
her,  since  he  lifted  her  in  his  arms  and  carried  her 
some  twenty  paces  to  a  chair. 

"  Even  to  you." 

Perhaps  she  would  leave  the  train  at  Council  Bluffs. 
Something  had  been  said  of  Council  Bluffs. 

Should  he  not  leave  it  there  also  ? 

What  should  he  say,  if  he  did  ? 

Should  he  say,  "  Miss  Bourn,  I  do  not  like  to  have 
you  travel  alone  in  winter.  If  you  please,  I  will  take 
my  ticket  to  the  place  you  are  going  to,  if  you  will 
only  tell  me  where  it  is." 

Should  he  say — good  Heaven  !  why  might  he  not 
say — "  Miss  Bourn,  I  will  stay  in  that  place  till  I  die, 
if  you  stay  there"  ? 

If  only  he  had  said  that  when  the  story  of  "  Ideals" 
was  finished,  why  he  would  now  know  where  he  was. 

And  if  she  had  been  not  displeased,  why  life  would 
be  life,  and  all  would  be  well 


PAUL   DECKER'S  REFLECTIONS.  265 

But  what  if  she  had  been  displeased,  if  she  had  been 
wounded, '  as  of  course  she  would  be  wounded — she 
had  not  known  him  two  whole  days.  She  would  have 
been  hurt  or  angry,  and  she  would  have  had  a  right 
to  be  angry. 

It  was  better  that  he  had  not  spoken. 

But  if— 

How  would  it  do  to  ask  Mr.  Van  Sandfoord,  or, 
perhaps,  Mrs.  Fr6chette  ?  She  had  more  experience, 
and,  with  all  her  fun,  she  was  evidently  genuine,  good 
and  true. 

Yes  ;  in  the  morning,  after  breakfast,  Paul  would  ask 
Mrs.  Frechette. 

But  if  only  the  drift  would  last  a  month  ! 

Perhaps  it  would.  That  would  be  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven. 

And  Theodora  ? 

Caesar  made  up  number  three  first  of  all.  And  Theo 
dora  was  first  of  all  to  bid  the  others  good-night,  and 
to  retire  behind  her  curtains. 

But  not  to  sleep. 

What  a  goose  she  had  been. 

"  Even  to  you."  Did  Mr.  Decker  think  her  a  flirt 
or  a  fool  ?  They  had  not  seen  each  other  two  days, 
and  yet  she  had  spoken  as  if  he  were  her  brother,  or 
her  cousin — nay,  had  spoken  as  if  she  were  going  to 
make  him  her  confidant. 

Well,  there  was  one  comfort.  He  would  leave  the 
train  the  next  day,  and  he  would  never  see  her  again 
nor  she  him. 

Would  he  never  see  her  again  ? 

Was  she  not  sure  as  certainty,  in  her  heart  of  hearts, 
that  he  would  see  her  somehow  and  somewhere  ? 


266  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

Ah,  Theodora  !  it  is  dark  here,  and  if  you  want  to 
blush,  you  may. 

"  Well,  if  he  wants  to  find  me,  he  will  find  me. 
Only  to-morrow,  he  must  not  go  into  breakfast  with 
us,  and  he  must  not  sit  with  us,  and  I  must  be 
careful  when  there  is  reading.  Yes,  I  can  manage  it. 
I  will  not  be  a  fool  to-morrow." 

And  then  Theodora  began  it  all  over  again,  and 
dissected  all  these  questions  again,  and  discussed  them 
once,  twice — forty  times  ;  but  at  last,  poor  girl,  she 
slept.  And  she  slept  well. 

And  when  they  woke  in  the  morning  they  were  mov 
ing  !  One  and  another,  indeed,  they  had  had  some 
consciousness  of  motion,  as  the  morning  dawned. 

Yes,  a  party,  as  of  giants,  with  ploughs  and  engines, 
not  to  be  counted  or  named,  had  stormed  up  through 
the  protected  snow-sheds,  had  come  in  on  the  flank 
of  the  region  where  we  had  been  imprisoned,  and,  as 
early  as  two  in  the  morning,  our  men  had  heard  their 
whistles,  and  had  whistled  cheerily  in  return.  The  sky 
was  clear  now,  though  that  stiff  north-wester  was  still 
packing  in  dry  snow.  None  the  less  did  two  hundred 
men  of  iron  throw  out  the  snow,  the  plank  and  the 
rafters,  which  were  tumbled  in  confusion  together. 
Steadily  and  surely  the  giants  drove  the  heavy  ploughs 
through  the  drift.  And  at  last  Goliath,  panting, 
faced  Titan,  gasping,  and  all  men  and  angels  knew  that 
the  TRACK  WAS  CLEAR  ! 

Quick  work  then,  as  all  these  giants  together  united 
their  forces  to  bear  the  unconscious  Christmas  party 
to  Plum  Creek  and  Gibbon,  to  Columbus  and  Omaha, 
and  to  the  outward  world. 


BREAKFAST.  267 

BREAKFAST. 

And  Theodora,  sandwiched  close  between  Mary  and 
Mrs.  Frechette,  goes  into  the  breakfast-room, 

Yes,  and  Paul  Decker  makes  no  effort  to  join  them. 

Is  he  perhaps  offended  ?     "  Even  to  you." 

She  loitered  at  breakfast  as  long  as  she  dared. 

After  breakfast  Mrs.  Frechette  and  Mary  would  sit 
together  talking  confidentially,  so  that  poor  Paul 
Decker,  who  hung  round,  could  not  join  them.  Yet  he 
did  not  leave  the  car.  Theodora  stayed  in  the  state 
room  on  some  pretence  of  looking  in  her  box,  till  Caesar 
turned  her  out. 

Paul  had  to  speak  to  her,  for  there  was  no  one  else 
at  that  end  of  the  car. 

He.  Good -morning. 

She.  Good-morning. 

He.  I  hope  you  slept  well.  That  is — I  was  glad 
Mrs.  Frechette  said  she  slept  well.  We  are  going 
on  again. 

She.  Yes,  we  are  going  on  again. 

(Pause.) 

He.  You  are  glad  we  are  going  on  again  ? 

She.  Oh,  yes,  I  believe — yes — oh,  yes,  every  one  is 
glad  we  are  going  on  again. 

He  (very  glum).  I  am  not  glad  we  are  going  on 
again. 

(Pause.) 

He.  How  busy  the  ladies  seem  ! 

She.  Yes,  they  seem  very  busy. 

He.  Are  they  old  friends  ? 

She.  I  do  not  know. 

(Pause.) 

He.  It  has  done  snowing. 


268  OUR   CHRISTMAS  IN  A    PALACE. 

She  (looking  out  of  the  window).  Yes,  it  has  done 
snowing. 

He.   It  snowed  very  hard. 

She.  Yes. 

(Pause.) 

He.  Have  you  friends  at  Council  Bluffs  or  Omaha  ? 

She  (starting].  Oh,  no,  I  do  not  know  any  one  at 
Council  Bluffs  or  at  Omaha,  either. 

Ccesar  (loudly).  What  lady  or  gentleman  has  dropped 
a  baggage  check  ?  Here's  a  check  some  gentleman 
has  lost  or  some  lady. 

Mrs.  Frechette.  It  was  I.  I  always  lose  them.  Let 
me  see  it,  Caesar.  (Looks  at  the  check.)  No,  it's  for 
PIQUA,  PIQUA,  OHIO. 

Paul  Decker.  Then  it  is  mine  ;  how  careless  I  am  ! 

Theodora  Bourn.  No,  it  is  mine.  I  put  it  in  my 
pocket,  and  it  is  not  there — for  my  large  trunk.  I 
gave  my  other  check  to  you,  Mr.  Van  Sandfoord,  and 
the  box  is  here. 

Paul.   Piqua  ?     You  ?     I  am  going  to  Piqua. 

Theodora.  Are  you  going  to  Piqua  ?  Who  do  you 
know  at  Piqua  ? 

Paul.  I  ?  Piqua  is  my  home.  My  father  is  Decker, 
of  Decker  &  Strange. 

Theodora.  And  Strange  is  my  uncle's  name — it  is 
where  I  shall  spend  the  winter. 

THE  END. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


f£B  1 0  1971 

MAR  8    W 


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